Nowadays, it's not often that I go out of my way to attend one of these things but both the star and the expectation of such a night, made me feel nostalgic enough to hit up our flock's leader, put on my special Black Sheep hat and began badgering the PR company responsible for an invite. Success! And a busy, pre-Christmas midweek night in a mild West End of London beckoned, to see the mighty talent that is Alicia Keys and the launch of her highly anticipated new album 'The Element Of Freedom'. The eagerness of the large queue forming outside was plain to see and surprisingly (for modern day club greetings) I was soon welcomed with a smile and into this exclusive showbiz affair I calmly strolled.

Located at a refurbished Regent Street department store now known as AQUA, the place was soon brimming with beautiful people come to see the J-Records star one-off performance. With many a familiar face from the UK urban scene and world of media in attendance, I was soon proceeding to make comparisons with those I spoke to, with those halcyon days of the late 90's when labels put on no-expense-spared launch parties for artists like Usher, Puffy, Whitney, Destiny's Child (you get my drift). Things never quite change though, as I witnessed a new generation of blaggers appearing to have established themselves, with no interest in the music/artist, just rubbernecking the nearest famous face and quite clearly quoffing the free champers and miniscule spring rolls without batting a fake eye-lash.

Then, like a cockney claxon, came the stage call and several hundred suited and booted squeezed there way down a tight stairwell (thankfully nobody tripping, at least not on their feet) eventually finding their way into the magnificent main room were Alicia was poised to woo her people. And we didn't have to wait too long before there she was, all gorgeous and all woman. The crowd cheered and a couple of hundred pairs of arms shot up into the air, holding aloft camera's, iPhones, and Blackberrys, resembling a classroom of digital "teachers pets" keen to answer the question that been asked. Which it hadn't.

With eyes and camera lenses fixed on her, and oozing with the confidence of a global superstar in her prime, Ms Keys got to work, despite the ear-splitting feedback on her mic which greeted her and us!!! There on in it was a set of a half-dozen joints, including new and past glories helped by a well drilled band and standing in the breath-taking expanse, drenched in a stunning blue glow. Thanks to high profile sponsors Amex and the W Hotels chain for financing such splendour, record labels just can't afford it these days, gawd bless 'em! The AQUA peeps should take a bow also.

With Alicia in full flow, the packed audience expected greatness. It didn't quite come, but moments of it did in the shape of her Jay-Z collab 'New York State Of Mind' (sadly Jay-Z-less), her last single 'No One' and classic cuts such as 'You Don't Know My Name' and 'If I Aint Got You'. Tune! However, even with a couple of free glasses of bubbly inside each of us, me and the rest of crowd struggled to find the same enthusiasm for the remaining couple of tracks which included the new album's title cut itself. 'The Element Of Freedom' is a bit power ballad heavy if you get my drift and with the exception of the singles, there doesn't seem to be much else. Time will tell regarding the album, but on the night, the average response may have been down to sound problems too. Despite the hard work setting up such an impressive gig, the sonics played havoc at the start, and the level of the drums was way too high. Boom, boom, boom! went the kick drum. Fucking hell! went my ears. But did I care? Did anyone care? Nah! Our appreciation matched Alicia's abundant positivity and even her short talk given about the worthy support for the AIDS fighting charity KCA (Keep A Child Alive), a notorious error to make if you want to lose your invited guests' attention, was well applauded.

Soon enough her performance was over, with no encore. But the night itself was far from done, a party of this ilk don't come along too often and celebs from all scales of the alphabet were out in force. The rest of us in the specially invited, who are ya group, with our tits and arse glamour on full show (except me) were keen to continue the good times. This meant we, rubbed shoulders with high flying record label execs, global CEO's and artists such as Dizzee Rascal, Daniel Merryweather, Lemar, Chipmunk, ex-junglist Sabrina Washington and some blonde with little boots on? WTF?! Then the after-show beats came courtesy of Ronnie Herel, the Dixon Bruvs and others, while more DJs, as well as TV presenters, even people who do both (shout out to Westwood, put your fingers in the air 4 times!!) mingled in the two rooms. And then there was the VIP area, well you had to be in it to win it, but I wasn't, so enuff said...

So as the young, trendy people stayed up all night, I was already suitably oiled and remembered, before it was too late, that I did have a home to go to and that without VIP access I would have to start paying for my drinks sooner rather than later. The big, looming men with their big, zooming camera's were waiting outside, once again failing to recognise me as I walked back along the red carpet (up yours, yeah!) and I departed into the nightlife of the capital city thinking to myself "fucking great party, might be a bit of a shame about the album though."