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by Abigail Wild


A quintessentially British star, Charlotte Church has in the past year successfully carved herself a niche as the female version of Robbie Williams. They possess the same earthy charm, and are such well-loved tabloid fixations that it would take a while for anyone to notice if either of them gave up releasing records.

Church even shares Williams's liking for an entrance that seals his status as a national treasure. (We hear a stream of old quips of the likes of Jonathan Ross and Cilla Black introducing Church on their TV programmes.)

The welcome difference between the pair is that Church's songs still burst with youthful exuberance and sweet concessions. There's the thumping, high-energy hit, Crazy Chick, and Call My Name, which is pure unbridled raunch (you can't disapprove of it from a woman who has more to her than an hourglass figure and a pretty face).

Sadly, the set suffered badly from one-album syndrome, leaving her having to sing more than the acceptable number of ballads. It's a relief when she starts to pad out the set with a few party covers, among them Luther Vandross's Never too Much and Prince's Kiss. One can only assume she has a hang up about whether she can actually sing, since she deliberately chooses songs that require obscene vocal dexterity.

On that front, she has nothing to prove. Where she really can't quite compete yet with more experienced pop stars is in supplies of self-assurance and ego. She's nervous and panicky, and it takes the edge off the bolshiness for which she is adored.

Hopefully Williams will give her a pep talk.

by Karen Price


SECC & Clyde Auditorium (The Armadillo), Glasgow

SHE may have performed in front of the Queen and the pope in the past, but watching the first night of Charlotte Church's UK tour in Glasgow, you got the impression she is ready to take her own throne.

The question is whether she can cut it as a queen of pop. Charlotte claimed a few years ago she wanted to be the Barbra Streisand of the new millennium, rather than a Britney clone and it's clear she has a far more refined presence than your average pop "princess".

Taking the stage before an adoring audience of predominantly younger women, many of whom appeared to have found their own personal saviour, she seemed genuine awed at the prospect of delivering to an audience scrutinising her every move for its pop pedigree.

As she readily admitted her vocals hadn't been tested this much for a while but once she relaxed a bit her down to earth Welsh charm had the Scots audience enchanted.

She also looked fabulous, that curvy, classical beauty of hers none-the-worse for her widely reported junk food fetish.

Her own songs put the famous voice of an angel to the fore and left no-one disappointed. Moodswings was severely catchy, while Confessional Song felt dreamy in a sort of Enya way.

Despite a disastrous attempt to get the audience singing in parts, on funk classic Rhythm Is Gonna Get You she was always in control. She played Kiss by Prince, with an excellent funk band supporting her and she made reference to Gavin Henson's Ospreys team winning.

On this showing Charlotte is pop royalty in the making.

A little unpolished perhaps but provided she keeps pushing the boat out in all musical directions - from funk to Motown - the best is surely yet to come.

Although last night's gig was not a sell-out, tickets had been selling well for the show at the venue, which has a capacity of around 2,000. But tickets for the Welsh concert at St David's Hall in Cardiff on Friday had sold out by the beginning of this week. And there are only "limited" tickets left for tomorrow's concert at the Shepherd's Bush Empire.

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