Although still just 21, the precocious New York pianist and soul diva Alicia Keys has already won five Grammy awards and one Mobo, sold several millions copies of her debut album Songs in A Minor, and even played to an audience of MPs in Westminster.

But all this inoffensive populism is clearly paying dividends. Barely two years into her career, Keys began her biggest British tour on Wednesday at a packed Nottingham Arena. Bravely opening with a low-key solo suite of bluesy piano medleys and quivering-jelly vocals, she hushed the capacity crowd with her warm bubblebath lament Caged Bird and her fluid, sparkling remake of Prince’s How Come U Don’t Call Me Anymore?. For 40 minutes, the Arena felt like the biggest late-night cocktail bar in the world.

But the demands of big-league success mean that Keys is now obliged to play a far more hackneyed role as a raunchy hip hop princess. And so, after wheeling on a full band and a New York street-scene backdrop midway through the evening, she left her piano behind to act out a booty-shaking vamp routine with all the dead-eyed professionalism of a Broadway understudy.

This awkward mid-set section included syncopated semi-raps such as Jane Doe and A Woman’s Worth, treacly confections of chaste innuendo and sappy self-help advice masquerading as feminist empowerment anthems.

It got worse. Keys performed a simulated striptease and lap dance which felt both tacky and oddly asexual.

A nasal, blustery cover version of the Doors’ Light My Fire finally dragged Keys back to her grand piano. But the songwriting cupboard was well and truly bare when she played her winning card in the shape of the former hit single, Fallin’, as an encore.

Although a gifted composer and performer, Keys displayed none of the lusty swagger of Macy Gray, the visionary weirdness of Missy Elliott, or even the bubblegum invention of Kelis. But, by and large, Middle England seemed pleased. Mission accomplished.

Editor's choice

• U2 at Nou Camp Stadium, Barcelona
• The 50 Best Movie Villains
• The 15 golden rules of theatre etiquette