Laura Marling, Royal Albert Hall - July 7

Ah, the Royal Albert Hall! If you live in the UK you've seen it a lot on telly, particularly for the Proms. It looks huge, but in person it's a more intimate venue you would've thought. Laura Marling, a plucky British guitarist, quite sensibly put herself and her band right in the centre of the venue, below those funny mushroom things they've stuck on the ceiling to sort the acoustics out. She didn't sell it out but it didn't matter in the end.

She had no support act and did her show in two parts, with an intermission for Mr to go off and get me a rather cool concert t-shirt that had the date and a really artsy drawing of the venue. Plus a poster for himself. Now, Jack White did the same thing with his show at the Apollo last week, and I have to say it's no bad thing. She did get through 21 songs and it gave us all an opportunity to swivel out of our chairs (the RAH has swivel chairs, how posh!) and go visit concessions. Mr thought the hall was under-resourced in the area of male toilets, which is an unusual complaint. The ladies were good.

Her banter for the first half was a bit awful but the songs largely made up for it, and her early nerves settled down as the night progressed. All the shouting from the audience was largely appreciative - we love you, marry me... Her band is very well coordinated after two years of touring, and seemed to require less tuning than she did with her acoustic guitar. Their silly facts about the RAH were a highlight of the second half. I liked the model of the Royal Albert Hall the cellist and pianist worked on together. Appeared to be partly made out of toilet rolls.

She says she's going to take a break for awhile, but this will give us all an opportunity to listen to her back catalogue. It's quite an excellent way to end a tour. The Royal Albert Hall. Laura Marling said she was terrified when she got on stage, but by the end of the night she and the venue were a perfect fit.

Jack White w/First Aid Kit, Hammersmith Apollo - June 22

I have a confession - I usually avoid the Hammersmith Apollo, due to one very horrible Florence & the Machine gig where I had to stand up at the back of the balcony. It was hot and so awful I left before the encore and before I passed out from the heat. I saw nothing except people's backsides. But I do love the White Stripes and so off we went to Jack White on Friday night.

First, we met up with Tim the plumber and got on the train. Tim's a great guy, but he enjoys his lager. Mr and I swore blind we would not be sucked into Tim's tricks of buying loads of beer/cider during a concert. Last time that happened, Tim and I wound up prancing around like fools outside Heaven with Erin O'Connor and the lead singer of the Alpines. I kept calling Erin, Erin Brokovich.

I was so tiddly I took a photo of Tim and Erin with her head cut off. Mr was inside trying to get Oh Land's autograph. They ran off just as he got outside. Never mind. But the problem is that if you do that on a school night, or any other night where you have to get up with a small child the next day, it's not good.

So, here we are at the Apollo, and Tim goes off for the first round, as I settle into my balcony seat. Having a seat is key at the Apollo. Do not bother with the standing tickets they sell. First Aid Kit are on, and sounding good, playing between the sheeted instruments for Jack's set. We catch two songs, the lion's roar one and the one where they yell "Fire!" and on the album is a duet with a guy who sounds like a young Bob Dylan. I luv this album myself.

FAK seem a bit shy - the two of them have long hair and they look like twin Cousin Its from the Addams family up there, playing away. Sometimes I think musicians being shy is just the most bizarre thing. Aren't you supposed to be performers? But the noise the two hairy ones were emanating was excellent. They leave to loud applause

Then, after a decent  interval, Jack White and his 6 woman band come on. The ladies were dressed like Charlene Tilton from Dallas. Now, Mr White is a bit of a hyper performer. He cannot stand still. He prowls around the stage like a 5-year old stuck indoors. He is also quite multi-talented - he can do a guitar, he can play the piano. I like guys like this.

He blasts through a large selection of stuff he has written since Meg left the band. Some of it is country. Jack has a fondness for country, as his collaborations with Loretta Lynn and Hank Williams have proved.  Me, I am not so crazy about it and I don't recognise most of it. This is alleviated somewhat by Tim's constant watering of Mr and I with alcohol.

And Jack seems a bit lost, despite his running around. And then I figure it out, after the interval where he and his band (he also apparently has a six-man band that he plays with too, on alternating dates) trundle off for a drink. This might be down to the cider I had ingested, but here's my theory:

Jack is missing Meg. Meg, the woman who spent concerts beating up the drums like she was the Cadbury's Gorilla. The one who would do a song and howl into the microphone. Meg, the one who is apparently suffering from stage fright and no longer will tour.

Poor Jack. He did his best. The female drummer tried to thump the drums like Meg used to do, but she wasn't using her time behind the skins as therapy like Meg did. So, the audience stayed seated until the end when he played "7 Nations" and the Doorbell song. I think the last one was directly aimed at Meg. When ya gonna ring it, Meg?

Marks out of 10: 7, because by God Jack tries.
The Apollo's still not my favourite venue though. It does get hot up in the balcony.