She came, she swore, she conquered. Well, technically, it was more of a victory on points after some early ring-rustiness, but given the widely reported problems in Birmingham two nights before and the gleeful desire for schadenfreude in certain parts of the media before tonight's gig, a victory it certainly was.

There was no booing, no walkouts, no forgotten lyrics, no walking off in the middle of songs. "This is the second night of the tour," Amy Winehouse reminded a sold-out, supportive, even solicitous audience in the Barrowland on Friday night. "It feels like the first night of the tour."

It also felt like a reminder of first principles. A reminder that the reason we first took an interest in this beehived Jewish princess was not the drama, the drinking, the drug-taking, the fighting, the family squabbles, the tabloid-friendliness of her messy life, but the music: the rightness of her influences - ska, soul, sixties girl groups - and the way she refreshes and renews them in songs that never feel ersatz. And then there's that voice.

If anything, there was too much voice to start with. Too high in the mix, timing slightly off, her singing was smeared messily over the opening numbers, without ever feeling part of them. Rigged out in a red party dress that showed off her scrawny chicken legs, Winehouse spent the first 10 minutes of the gig scratching around, wiping her mouth, pulling on the hem of her dress, trying to find a way into the moment. But buoyed by a crowd clearly willing her on, she was smiling by the time she finished Tears Dry on Their Own. By the time she covered Cupid she'd remembered how to dance. By the time she started losing control of her bobby helmet of a hairdo halfway through Back to Black she was in control of everything else.

Amy Winehouse has played better gigs. All being well, she will play better in future. But this was a night to remember what matters. Hopefully Winehouse realises that, too.