It was billed as an evening of Cole Porter songs. But the show singer and sometime stand-up comic from East St Louis and the Welsh-born jazz and soul vocalist were never going to deliver any such package straight. DeLaria pondered why much contemporary vocal jazz is "pretty girls with pleasant voices singing country music", and then declared the evening's show dedicated to "fat queer music". "You've outed me as overweight," Shaw complained in mock despair. But the pair's music filled the room and then some, and was fearlessly unconventional, so in that sense, too, she was dead right.

The contrast between their jubilant, four-letter, gender-stretching raucousness and the casually focused jazz expertise they apply to reinterpreting standards is part of the explosive charisma of the act. A fine trio featured Jeanette Mason on piano, Arnie Somogyi on bass and the superb Paul Robinson (a former Nina Simone accompanist) on drums.

The pair sang Let's Do It as a roaring, bop-scat duet, Shaw in yodelly, ducking-and-diving Mark Murphy mode (he increasingly sounds like more of a true Murphy inheritor than the technically impregnable disciple Kurt Elling), and DeLaria more percussively staccato. She furiously delivered Miss Otis Regrets over a thumping march tempo and as if she were singing in an amphitheatre. She then cut the volume to swing Lady Be Good simply against her own finger-snapping and Mason's funky piano, improvising on it in startling low tones.

Shaw sang an eerily slow, steady-falsetto account of Every Time We Say Goodbye, and Paul Robinson unfolded an exquisite brushes display of fragile shivers and clipped hits fitfully steamrollered by deft tom-tom rolls to introduce I've Got You Under My Skin. DeLaria then turned Night and Day into a strange and haunting Kurt Weillian dirge - about uncontrollably swelling desire rather than cosy rhapsodising.

· Ends tonight. Box office: 020-7439 8722.