SHE’S young, she’s talented, and she’s pretty.

Who wouldn’t want to spend an intimate evening with Pixie Lott in this tiny former music shop in the heart of Manchester?

Sound Control is a fantastic venue, but sadly any illusions of intimacy are shattered when the cheesy compere kicks off the show.

This is a gig populated entirely by competition winners and generously paid for by clothes shop USC.

Pixie was clearly not perturbed by this flagrantly commercial introduction, pouring her heart and soul into every song, her obvious enjoyment written all over her face.

Dressed in a cute little black dress, she flicks her tousled golden locks across her long-lashed eyes as she shakes her shoulders, and — oh my God — did she just wink at me?

It’s no wonder that some bloke in the corner keeps shouting “I love you Pixie” at every opportunity, prompting an endearing flush of embarrassment each time.

She is arguably a victim of her own good looks, as people should instead be shouting about her vocal talents and her repertoire of slickly produced, catchy and soulful pop songs.

It’s not all about Mama Do, either — the lively Boys And Girls gets the crowd moving, and Nothing Compares is a genuinely heartfelt ballad.

While her album makes use of the ubiquitous Autotune, Pixie shines on stage without the need for this technological wizardry, delivering flawless vocals on a hot balmy evening.

At little over half an hour, it’s not the longest gig in history, but no-one’s complaining when it’s this good and it’s all free.

With her combination of talent, beauty and plain great songs, there’s no reason Pixie shouldn’t go on to become a global superstar.