Shakira

The curtain shrouding the stage builds the tension, a rock track of the Guns n’ Roses persuasion kicks in, silhouettes of lean guitar wielding men become visible. Whoosh, the curtain goes back to reveal a 10ft mechanical snake, which rises up to reveal the first lady of bum wiggling pop, Shakira.

This is just the beginning. In the next hour and a half Shakira will sing like a diva, play guitar like a god (covering both ‘Dude Looks Like A Lady’ and ‘Back In Black’), perform a drum solo on a pneumatic riser, then break the great unwritten rule. Shakira will get political.

It starts with such a barrage of slogans flashing up on the video wall as to rival the Manics. Then during a fairly inoffensive Latin ballad (like much of tonight’s set, in Spanish) we get a video of men playing chess. Nothing very challenging about that except one man is wearing a rubber Saddam Hussein mask whilst the other’s resembles George Bush. Oh, and the grim reaper is floating above them controlling their movements like a puppeteer. By the end of the song the men are fighting each other and as the dust settles a dove flies out.

“Love does not know leaders and leaders to not know love”, says Columbia’s finest export over an upbeat rhythm. Only now do we notice the band are all wearing masks. Did I just see Fidel Castro jamming with Putin? Politics over and it’s time for big drums and ‘Objection Tango’. The shimmying begins again and the dodgy looking middle aged men in the front row start bouncing up and down whilst punching the air. BOOM! Pyrotechnics are great, except when you’re sat next to them…

Once my hearing recovers we’re into the encore with ‘Whenever, Wherever’. Shakira emerges through the floor of the stage wearing a crown of candles on her head. Dry ice blowing everywhere and musicians pulling poses this is the new Spinal Tap. Putting down her burning helmet the song kicks in and she’s running all over the place, a girl possessed in bare feet and enjoying the rush. Finally she’s onto a crane type construction and swinging out over the audience as ticker tape is blasted everywhere.

As a show this is pretty good. But to also be fronted by a thinking woman who’s as comfortable with knocking out riffs on her guitar as she is wiggling her seductive behind the “Tour Of The Mongoose”(!) simply blows everything else away. No contest.