Paper Jets

Watching a Michael Buble concert is like being in the theatre. The crowds are hushed and well-behaved - apart from the occasional screeching from a middle-aged fan-girl that gets added to as the lights dim. The drums roll, fire balls burst and the curtain parts teasingly to reveal a silhouette of the Canadian jazz singer. He bursts forth, cord microphone in hand, gesticulating cheekily as he slides about the stage to aptly named Fever. The dramatic entrance is followed with crowd standing for Haven't Met You Yet. "Tonight it's our last night, I want you to let yourselves go," Buble says. "I don't want you to give a s**t about anyone who's sitting next to you." Ma and Pa Buble are in the audience tonight so Buble junior promises not to hold back on the final night of his Australasian tour. "We're going to take it nice and slow like we've just met at a bar," he says. "Maybe we'll slow dance and by the end o