Before he became a household name, Andrea Bocelli paid his dues in bars, doing the kind of romantic repertoire that best tickled punters' palates.

After 100 years of the new, modern dance is still fizzing

The news that Simon Cowell supposedly had a fling with his fellow X Factor judge Dannii Minogue filled the weekend's tabloids. The story comes from Tom Bower's new biography of the publicity-friendly music mogul, in which Cowell admitted that he "had a crush" on Minogue, adding, "it was genuine love".

The news of her death was shocking, but sadly no one could say it was unexpected. That precocious, extravagant talent which brought Amy Winehouse success and critical acclaim was matched by her capacity for self-destruction. In an example of the enigma of human creativity, she was able to use the chaotic darkness of her addictions – drink, drugs and toxic relationships – to create music and lyrics which channelled her hurt and despair into great songs which immediately spoke to millions. And she delivered them in that astonishing voice, one of the greatest of modern times, as powerfully and immediately moving as those of Billie Holiday, Edith Piaf and Maria Callas.

Rarely has there been a more affably erudite performer than Rufus Wainwright. As he cracks a one-liner about Richard Wagner on stage at the Royal Opera House, his sister Martha – with whom he shares the stage tonight – and the crowd chuckle. Moments later, the siblings burst into a cover of Elton John and Kiki Dee's 1976 number one "Don't Go Breaking My Heart", during a performance also including work by Edith Piaf, Leonard Cohen and their late mother, Kate McGarrigle, as well as original material from both Wainwright children. This is not under any circumstances a traditional gig.

Kirsty Young, the presenter of Radio 4's Desert Island Discs, considers it unlikely that "The Birdie Song" will feature when the nation's own favourite records are revealed in tomorrow morning's special edition of the venerable programme. The Great British public, asked to imagine themselves as castaways, have been registering their own choices on the Radio 4 website.

Edith Piaf did, it appears, regret many things. The great diva of la chanson française craved a "normal" life, with children, "pretty curtains" and a cycling champion for a husband, according to a volume of her love letters published in France.

Say hello to 5-HTT. Scientists have identified this strip of DNA as the "happiness gene". If you've got it, you're likely to adopt a glass half full attitude to life. If you don't, your cup of sorrow will run over. But this leads us back to that old philosophical debate about nature versus nurture.

Much has been written about the singer Edith Piaf, France's "Little Sparrow" who was famed for her impoverished childhood, her doomed love affairs, her illnesses and addictions and her mastery of la chanson réaliste. Along with books (including Piaf's rather selective memoir The Wheel of Fortune) there have been various biopics, most recently Olivier Dahan's La Vie En Rose, for which Marion Cotillard won an Oscar. So what can there possibly be left to say?