IT started as cabaret and progressed to the full-on glam disco of the Ooh La La and Number 1 big hits, the ones that had drawn Saturday's crowd to Goldfrapp, the electronic duo that had mushroomed into five-piece behind chanteuse Alison.

The more the night progressed, the more dazzling lights were added, the more the drums clattered, the more the initially statuesque Alison Goldfrapp moved from her microphone, the more she transformed from golden-haired, black trousered Marlene Dietrich to, well, not quite Kylie the showgirl, but the ice maiden slowly thawed.

It is difficult to take a hold on Alison Goldfrapp's personality; she is better at distance and mystery than intimacy, which makes her awkward.

She said a quiet "Hello" at the start, then nothing until after the fourth number, when she apologised, "I'm full of cold, so forgive me if I'm slightly croaky." You couldn't have told she was suffering, save maybe for the vocals sounding a tad muffled, but then her diction is not always pin-sharp clear on her albums anyway.

"Have a vodka," a voice came form the crowd. Alison smiled for the first time. "I think maybe not this evening. Maybe a bit later. I'll warm up to it," she said. True to her word, she did, and the set did likewise, but patter will never be her trump card. No bon-mots, no insights, nothing off the cuff, no tales around latest album Tales Of Us.

Everything else was beautifully crafted and measured about this show, every last detail of presentation thought through, but though feet shimmied, Goldfrapp never touched the heart. One moment Alison was Kate Bush, then Cocteau Twins' Liz Frazer, or Marc Bolan, or Donna Summer; Alison in wander-land not wonderland.