From the outset things seemed odd. The mostly middle-aged attendees were dressed to the nines and quaffing champagne as perhaps one might expect in such a neat and prim Sloane Square theatre venue with tickets from £50-100, but they were rather louder and more Essex-sounding than the usual theatre crowd. Their conversation was punctuated by stage whispers of "is that Malandra Burrows?" or "look it's Gaffney" and screams of "Myleene! Girl Power!" or "It's Jason Donovan! I love you Jason!!".

This is the weird world of David Gest, where anyone and everyone is a great showbiz pal, from Liz Taylor and Michael Jackson to the cream of Britain's B-list, befriended by him on I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here!

To make it all odder still, all were gathered to see a line-up which ranged from some of the greatest soul singers of all time to that soft-rock belter from the Valleys, Bonnie Tyler. Jason Donovan and Busted's Matt Willis delivered a semi-comprehensible and filthy-seeming intro, and the oddness escalated.

Backed by an exceedingly competent 20-strong band, some truly awesome singers tore the roof off the venue. The standard was set by Candi Staton with Young Hearts and the sublime gospel-disco of You Got The Love. But between each act came Gest, whose head resembles nothing so much as a child's school project growing cress out of the top of an egg, with a wonky face painted on the front.

His nonsensical, smutty and morbid patter seemed to have nothing to do with anything, but was bizarrely entertaining.

Mighty performances kept on coming from the wonderfully suited-and-booted superannuated soul legends. To see a super-shmooooove Billy Paul singing Me And Mrs Jones, and Martha Reeves And The Vandellas hollering Heatwave, Nowhere To Run and Dancing In The Street on the same bill was a true privilege, never mind the brilliance of Deniece Williams, The Stylistics and the rest - all still, despite their greying hair, with voices to put the over-trained new R&B generation to shame.

The crowd danced and sang as wildly as the music demanded. But then came the bizarre spectacle of the band going all rock for Tyler's segment. It culminated, of course, in a dementedly theatrical Total Eclipse Of The Heart, contrasting sharply with the gutsy, heartfelt soul of the previous three hours.

Finally, Gest thanked the sponsors, Smooth FM, and we were treated to the slick Peabo Bryson in leopard-print velour jacket, duetting with an unfeasibly young and foxy backing singer on some unbelievably schmaltzy "classics". By A Whole New World it was all just too much. Rarely can the sublime and the ridiculous have collided so spectacularly and mind-bogglingly on a London stage.