Khaled, Shepherds Bush Empire, London

The Shepherds Bush Empire had never seen anything like it.

The Shepherds Bush Empire had never seen anything like it. Hordes of young Algerians streamed into the auditorium to see their musical hero - like the prodigal son returning after years in exile. Khaled may not be such a well-known name in this country, but to Arabs all around the world he is tantamount to a god.

From the word go the atmosphere was electric. DJ Ali Slimani knew exactly which buttons to press as he hyped up the already excitable crowd by playing hit after hit of richly percussive Arabic pop. To the smaller contingent of white middle-class intelligentsia which supports world music events in this country it was an eye-opener, as the Algerian and Palestinian flags unfurled on the dance floor, and groups of young Algerian men did the walking-to-the-dancefloor dance, intermittently waving their arms in the air and singing the lyrics. Then the band appeared to rapturous applause, building up the anticipation with the atmospheric "El Nahr El Khaled". The great man eventually appeared, dressed in an expensive grey suit and open-necked white shirt, and mobile phones were held aloft, lighting up the dimly lit arena like searchlights over Dresden.

Khaled launched into a trio of songs from his wonderful new album Ya-Rayi - a sparkling return to form from a man who appeared to be a spent force after his woeful performance at Womad last year. The crowd listened appreciatively, but already you could sense that most admirers were here to hear his greatest hits. "Chebba" - which first appeared on the seminal album Kutche - received the first big cheer of the night.

Khaled's voice was in imperious form as he quickly warmed to the crowd. "H'mama" brings the first of the evening's drawn-out vocal ululations, and draws appreciative claps before he takes his jacket off and gets the biggest whoop of the night. Khaled the sex symbol seems an odd way to view the slightly portly, middle-aged pop star; to an uninitiated onlooker, Khaled can seem, at times, little more than a very good cabaret singer. Indeed it was the Oran cabaret circuit in his native Algiers that provided the springboard for his meteoric rise to "king of rai" status.

A short acoustic set allows Khaled's dextrous vocals to be savoured, and draws the first highlight of the evening with the traditionally flavoured "Wahran". A tantalising percussion solo from Bachir Mokari leads onto "Didi" - one of his most famous songs and a huge hit in his adopted French homeland. This sets the scene for "Abdel Kader" - one of the highlights of Khaled's remarkable "1,2,3 Soleils" performance with Rachid Taha and Faudel at Paris' POPB stadium in 1998.

However the crowd is champing at the bit for his best-loved hit, "Aicha", and he builds up the anticipation nicely with trademark dramatic vocal acrobatics, before the cheesy Eighties synth into kicks in to a huge cheer. The crowd is invited to sing along, and it's a remarkable cacophony of syrupy French lyrics sung with real passion. It's one of those moments when what one considered to be an average Euro-pop song with hints of Toto's "Africa" transcends itself into an anthem for a nation torn by political insurgence and bloody conflict... and you love it. All in all this was a momentous performance for all the right reasons.