Every soul diva knows the value of a grand entrance. "The one and only ... " begins the MC, but Angie Stone doesn't appear. He looks confused. "OK, we're gonna play some music now," he jitters. "Um, no music." When he finally bigs up "All the way from the USA, Angie Stone", the spotlight picks out a seven-year old boy, the singer's son by her ex D'Angelo. If Stone is miffed by the fiasco, she doesn't show it, urging Manchester to "give the love" and, more cringily, "keep it real".

However, the evening's awkward start generates a vulnerability from which Ms Stone, in a voluminous gown and bare feet, never quite recovers. Her career hasn't quite lived up to the expectations that saw her touted as the next Mary J Blige. While Blige plays arenas, Stone performs in mid-sized venues with plenty of empty seats and has lately made a side-step into acting.

Cracks appear as she almost apologises for quick blasts of songs from her new album, Stone Love, and asks the audience, "Did we get through that all right?"

The set is mostly taken from her first two albums, Black Diamond and Mahogany Soul, but then Stone has never taken risks. She is easily the most traditional of modern divas, and her set feels like an old slipper. There are band workouts, church-like harmonies, quotes from oldies like Sade's Sweetest Taboo and a slightly disturbing note when little Michael is brought on to show off dance moves. Has Stone learnt nothing from what happened to Michael Jackson?

She pushes herself just once, for Come Live with Me, a personal song about a man who has a child and skedaddles. But music seems a lesser priority now. Her next project is a sitcom. If she needs a comedian, there's always that MC.