Greeting London in harlequin leather flares and a tough little top encrusted with 'NOT THAT KIND' in diamante studs, Anastacia is our hostess with the mostess at the first of two sold-out gigs.
Hear'say are here, downing pints to a cast of onlookers. The kids are in the cheap seats towards the Empire's gods and there's a packed out crowd of pyjama party women, camped up men, and record company staffers. It's as conventional as old friends hooking up for happy hour.
Meanwhile, like a Barry White soul goddess with a slightly more svelt belly, Anastacia's belting out the lurve songs for her fans. It's epic eighties stuff with guitar leads which would make Tom Cruise drop his cocktail shaker, and judging by her voice he'd be apologising about it all night.
This woman is in control. As well as being capable of holding a note for 10 seconds without waivering and not missing a single note for the duration of the gig, she has certainly got her band whipped into shape. They're all allowed to do solos, as long as she gets the last word in.
There are three support divas on stage, let's call them Tina (Turner), Janet (Jackson) and Donna (Summer). Dressed in leather, less revealing than Anastacia, these 'sisters' are like mates who have been going on holiday together and creating havoc in the same disco destinations for years. You can imagine the tour bus havoc, howling and anti-male hysterics. They are a force to be reckoned with, not only on the personality stakes but also in talent.
Although not original, innovative or earth-shatteringly different, the blend of soul and rock is professionally proficient and cheesily cool. It's pop and it rocks. What we like about Anastacia, I speak for the whole of the audience here, is that we can relate to this lady.
She's powerful, a good feminist role-model, yet she's like an non-neurotic Bridget Jones. Although she may worry about her tum, her bum and her relationships, she's just a good time girl who deals with her life by crying and dieting. Putting her girlfriends before her dates means that the women in the audience want to go out on the pull with her and the men want to pull her and fantasise about all her girlfriends.
Slipping out of her US accent into a vaguely good attempt at a nice London one, she gives Hear'say a good lesson on how to captivate an audience. The hit, 'I'm Outta Love', has the whole venue ram jamming in appreciation and then she's gone. The cynics realise that they've enjoyed their leisure-time and even they appear to be demanding an encore.
Cue the covers. The first is a rock chick version of Elton John's 'Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting' (she was just speaking to him on the phone earlier apparently). Then she leaves the stage again, only to return once more with Aretha Franklin's 'Respect'. And she gets it. Brave girl. In pop's great Test Match, Anastacia is sure to be on the pitch for a fair few more innings.
