Copyright Guardian Newspapers, Limited Apr 12, 1999 YOU knew it was a Linda McCartney tribute when the only merchandise on sale at the Royal Albert Hall was a poster of two sheep dancing above the motto `Cooking with kindness'. A year after her death, she continues to symbolise the animal rights movement, which accounted for the vegetarian theme of this charity evening. The organiser, Chrissie Hynde, has long been vociferously anti- meat, but the show also provided an opportunity for others to declare their eating allegiances. The guitarist, Johnny Marr, was introduced as `vegetarian extraordinaire', the host, Eddie Izzard, employed a welter of expletives to announce he had cut out red meat, and Sinead O'Connor apologised for not having done so. Aside from making one yearn to pelt the stage with sausages, the militant tone raised the question of whether vegetarianism was the main criterion for choosing the acts. It would explain the presence of a little-known soul singer, Lynden David Hall, who perform three stunning numbers, and of nice-but-dull Des'Ree and M People's foghorn-lunged singer, Heather Small. The red-gowned O'Connor seemed to be there to stir things up. She was unstoppable, throwing knickers (not her own) at George Michael, making a tasteless remark about another act's wife and singing something about England's lack of humanity. For better or worse, she kept the evening flowing, along with Izzard, who punctured star-like vanity by revealing that an autocue was helping people with their tunes. Those tunes consisted of a fair number from the Beatles catalogue, such as a pale Eleanor Rigby by George Michael. Most of the artists were on easier territory with their own hits, like Marianne Faithfull's raddled, post-booze-and-drugs As Tears Go By and a fierce (What's So Funny 'bout) Peace, Love And Understanding? from Elvis Costello. It takes a Beatle to do the Beatles, and suddenly there was Paul McCartney, wobbly-voiced, remembering `my beautiful baby' and kicking off his most joyous number, All My Loving, with `Talk about karaoke, eh?' The house sang along for the first and only time, the over-50s remembering, the under-10s discovering. It was the best possible tribute to his wife - even if she might have been more touched by the banner in the crowd reading `Gone Veggie'.