First things first: Duffy is definitely not the new Amy Winehouse.

She has got the indisputably stunning voice (so smooth live it almost looked like lipsynching), the 1960s sound and even the beehive, albeit Britt Ekland's in The Wicker Man rather than Winehouse's rockabilly Morticia Adams. But she hasn't got any soul.

Singing tracks from her self-penned debut album Rockferry, she went through the motions - one hand reached up, eyes cast to the ceiling - ad nauseum, but with all the genuine feeling of an actress playing Dusty/ Aretha/Diana.

In fairness, she has never pretended her songs are anything other than fiction, but it jars massively with the soul stylings. Even prefacing Stepping Stone, the one song that does seem to have come from the heart, she explained it was about someone she "thought she was a bit in love with". Hardly the core of human experience.

This is not to belittle her talents - Rockferry is a great pop album. If you can overlook some of the truly toe-curling lyrics ("I'm a trophy on your arm/you wear me like a charm/an accessory that suits/your new suede boots" is one example) the music is hooky and, in its catch-all Motown, comfortingly familiar.

Hit single Mercy is so eerily 1960s, you can almost convince yourself you once saw someone in go-go boots dancing to it on Ready Steady Go!.

How she will string out this somewhat one-dimensional appeal for more than one album remains to be seen.