Music

Amy Winehouse in Bristol

"This is none other than the house of God. And this is the gate of heaven" reads the inscription above the arch that Amy Winehouse will shortly strut through, wearing a very small and very tight dress on her approach to the stage in the old St. Paul's church on Bristol's Portland Square.

This renovated place of worship, since transformed into a circus training venue (and complete with trapeze artists watching from the ceiling), is quite a place to kick off Vodafone's second series of intimate, secret gigs. And the carved message perfectly captures the paradox that is Amy: voice of a heavenly angel (when singing), tones of a boozer barmaid (when talking) and lyrics that sound like a 'Big Brother' confessional yet, somehow, work as epic 50s jazz ballads or bobby-socked 60s soul songs. Amy Winehouse is, to use a music reviewer's cliché, seminal.

In the wake of the recent tabloid frenzy, the question of the evening has been: 'but will she turn up?' A beaming security guard, however, confirms her presence: "And she's in a happy mood," he confides, "she's just got engaged."

Amy Winehouse exclusive footage

Check out exclusive video from Amy's Vodafone TBA gig in St Paul's Church in Bristol.

View Amy Winehouse footage

Uncannily on cue, the audience (and with just 200 of us, this is seriously intimate) parts, and Amy strides up the church's aisle, aptly enough, exuding an inner glow - and, yes, a large, sparkling rock. Shards of early evening light stream through the floor-to-ceiling stained glass window behind her and the jaunty percussion beat of 'Know You Know' pipes up. "You're just a little boy/underneath that hat…" she begins, to the backdrop of her all-guy dancing backing band, who wear natty, slim-fit black suits. The voice, whiskey soft, honey deep and effortlessly powerful, is lovingly caressed by the high arches and soft stone of the church. Or, put simply, the acoustics in this place are AMAZING and Amy's voice is, well, quite astonishing.

Two songs in she announces casually (as is her want) that she "really likes Bristol, actually" and that she's going to play us some songs from her new album. This she does - we get nearly every single track from the Motown-heavy LP (plus three from first album, 'Frank', and a couple of bonus treats) - and all in just one hour.

'Addicted', with hints of Mary Wells' 'My Guy', sounds sweet and summery with its chirpy orchestral backdrop. And in a classic slice of Amy-ness: "Tell your boyfriend/Next time he's around," she sings, as her backing singers swing and finger click flamboyantly from side to side, "To buy his own weed." Only Amy.

"Very personal wasn't she? You really get to relate to her in a place like that. It was fantastic having the gig in a church."
George

"We were dancing big time. We made up a dancing circle with the people in front. And even though we were off to the side we had a really good sound. The acoustics in there were amazing."
Gemma

"She's got real character and you don't get as much of that in music these days. Just seeing her is a highlight in itself."
Mark

"I've just heard that there's no alcohol here," she says in alarm between songs. "Is that true?" Her fears are confirmed. "I just wanted to check I'm not getting mugged off or anything." She has a special knack for connecting with an audience: "When you split up with someone, it's like, you know, you can keep yourself busy all day, can't ya? But you can't control your thoughts at night - can ya?" is her introduction to the Ronettes-y drive-in ballad, 'Wake Up Alone' ("I stayed up cleaned the house/at least I'm not drinkin'").

Half way through current single, 'Back to Black', it's just Amy and the kick-drum: her voice is bigger than ever, coiling, snake-like, around an invisible pole; then there's another matey introduction - to 'Me and Mr Jones', which brilliantly begins, "What kind of f**kery is this?" and recounts the tale of the guy who failed to get her tickets to a Nas gig ("just rude, man"). 'Rehab' fills the church like molten chocolate - so wrong, yet so right - next thing, the backing singers are can-canning their way through a cover of ska reggae classic, 'Monkey Man' while our hostess fiddles distractedly with her sparkly new ring, huge eyes wandering, doing that strange, stiff little lost-in-her-own-world out of time dance. To end, we get her bouncy, soulful cover of the Zutons' 'Valerie'. And, after bidding us "a beautiful evening", with an awkward little wave she's off, leaving her perky back-up singers crooning "I hope we meet again..." Us too!