ZANY, eccentric and supremely talented, pint-sized songstress Paloma Faith is every inch a star.
At the Brighton Centre on Monday night she wowed adoring fans with a selection of gutsy hits. She wielded giant gold panels as she whirled weirdly around a stage backed by a stunning set of golden palm trees. The overall effect was Marilyn Monroe-meets-Tutankhamun.
But it was when she opened her mouth to speak after a low-key, ethereal opening that she really had the crowd in the palm of her hand.
In her Hackney accent, she squeaked: “I’m tryna be arty, awright? But every time I talk it all falls down.
“I’ve had a lovely day in Brighton but I couldn’t find a stick of rock with the name Paloma. So instead I bought one that said Keith.”
As her fans giggled, the lights went down and she launched into another of her showstopping hits.
The music was haunting yet punchy in places – perfect for a crowd consisting mainly of gay men, teenage girls and middle-aged couples.
Backed by a barnstorming band she slowly built the show to an anthemic crescendo and by the end had the whole place up, dancing and along for the ride.