Article: MUSIC / POP : The belly of the wail

The synthesised orchestra goes boom-boom-budda-budda-boom-boom- boom. The tom-toms purr, the bass pounds in time to the pulse banging in your neck. And then the woman in the amazing technicolour dreamcoat opens her mouth and wails. I don't know what she is singing. At one point, it seems to be "lynch me, darling". At another, "America, my umpire". She moves between languages - French, Spanish, Arabic - the way other people move between aisles at Sainsbury's. But language is of no consequence tonight in Camden. When Natacha Atlas wags her finger sternly, or offers her hand in papal readiness for kissing, you know she means business.

What you really want to know is whether or not she ...

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