Fresh from the heady heights of a South Bank Show special, Bjork's Edinburgh show was one of only a handful of UK dates on a short tour. The venue, a large and grand concert auditorium, was filled with a mix of Bjorkettes, Student Grants and Ikea-shopping couples - representative of Bjork's cross-sectional appeal. An all-seated venue, we all duly sat and were treated to an hour and a half of Middle Eastern dance rhythm tapes tripping out the speaker stacks by way of support, which certainly succeeded in supplicating us and making us all the more eager to see the main act.

The stage was draped with vertical sheets of polythene and strands of blue/green material, giving it the air of a secret cave behind a waterfall, or an undersea kingdom. Onto this abstract and naturalistic set strode the creators of LP Homogenic's otherworldly sounds - an 8-piece string ensemble, LFO beatmeister Mark Bell, and the sleight figure of its enigmatic star - Bjork herself. Sporting a shimmering gold dress/apron over a short white dress (and "normal" hair), she looked part Little Mermaid and part Beat Goddess. When the cascading, cartwheeling drums of "Hunter" spilled out the sequencer, coupled with the stacatto bolero from the strings, hairs simultaneously rose on the backs of several thousand necks. When an eerily backlit Bjork let loose her delicate yet striking vocals into the hall, the effect was absolutely memseric.

At times appearing totally immersed in her own vocal power, and at others scampering from one end of the stage to the other, Bjork captivated throughout her entire performance with a charismatic and frankly stunning performance. Particularly during the new, more personal material, she appeared to retreat into some private place, forcing out words through clenched fists and tightly-shut eyes. During the instrumental interludes in songs such as "Hunter" and a bone-chilling "Joga", she became the rhythm, dancing out beats with flailing arms and evocative body movements. Certainly no dull-to-watch shoegazer.

Practically all of Homogenic received an airing, highlights being a cathartic and emotive "5 Years" (with its "you can't handle love" refrain) and an "Alarm Call" from Valhalla, bass and beats stabbing you in the chest as the hall threatened to collapse under the relentless power of the music. Also included in an impressive set were pared down versions of old classics like "Isobel" and "Venus As A Boy", stripped of their previous familiar production to reveal the shining skeletal beats and pulsing strings underneath. In fact, the combination of ultra-modern machine-generated rhythms and warm traditional strings was - as on Homogenic - startling in its originality; almost a new sound.

Towards the end of the set it was obvious Bjork was enjoying the show as much as we were. A broad grin spread across her face as a techno-fied "Human Behaviour" levitated the crowd from their seats and saw the dancing begin. A trio of upbeat numbers followed, creating a party atmosphere out of the chin-stroking appreciative one that had existed up til now. A version of "Violently Happy" with the drums in control followed and the crowd - as they say - went wild. Skipping around the stage like a child at a Birthday party, Bjork led us willingly into an increasingly joyous and frenzied place - culminating in the aforementioned techno assault of "Alarm Call", which left the walls themselves gasping for air.

Returning for an understated encore of a moving "All Is Full Of Love", Bjork and her musicians supplied a coming-down soundtrack for the evening and then, with a simple "thank you very very much", she was gone, leaving the polythene and material - and us - trembling in her wake. A truly innovative and exciting artist, Bjork has more to offer the modern musical scene than a host of surly boys in anoraks could ever hope to achieve. Existing in her own unique sphere, she is producing some of the most forward-looking music around today and fortunately, on the strength of tonight, she shows no signs of stopping.