Let’s get the negatives from last night’s Beyoncé concert at Vancouver’s Rogers Arena out of the way first. Her hair. Long, blonde and continually buffered by strategically placed fans (electric, not the kind that paid to get in), Beyoncé spent much of the evening looking like a clip from a conditioner commercial. Which, given Ms Knowles-Carter’s penchant for putting her name to major brands, might have been the plan all along.

So the hair was questionable. That’s ok. Because every other aspect of the Vancouver stop on the Mrs Carter Tour was absolutely fabulous.

It was clear that Rogers Arena was in the presence of greatness before the star of the hour even stepped on stage; as proceedings commenced with a video containing an array of avant garde fashions revealing an ivory-faced Queen Bey upon her throne, a modern day Elizabeth I. A blizzard of high def flashes and very real flames later and she was standing centre stage in the flesh. A smile and a wiggle launched “Run The World (Girls)” and “End of Time,” the latter delivering the first example of the tush-centric choreography that would become a noticeable theme throughout the show.

The highlights came thick and fast. Putting the ballads on the back burner, Beyoncé was in top gear from start. “Baby Boy” featured six dancers, one real Beyoncé and countless on-screen Beyoncés engaging in moves that could only be described as bootylicious. The sunny pop of “Party” brought her fuller-figured backing vocalists, The Mamas, to centre stage as the star implored the crowd to raise the already impressive energy. When Beyoncé tells you to put your hands in the air, you get ’em up.

“Freakum Dress” upped the ante even higher, Beyoncé and her dancers arriving on stage in ball gowns, wisely keeping their distance as guitarist Bibi McGill ripped a solo with jets of sparks flying from both ends of her instrument. “Why Don’t You Love Me” came next, and contained a demonstration what charisma really is: Beyoncé stopping the music to silently soak up the adoration from the crowd. Folding her arms and feigning boredom, as the crescendo rose she finally cracked her $100million smile. Resistance was futile.

It wasn’t like she was doing it all on her own. The video clips disguising her multiple costume changes were exquisite short films (all unapologetically detailing Beyoncé’s phenomenal attractiveness) running from comedy biplane polishing to regency era twerk-fests to an endearingly pretentious trip around an abandoned town clutching a tiara. Her all-female band and dance troupe, boosted by the addition of French hip hop dance sensations Les Twins, were dazzling. And yet, despite being surrounded by terrific dancers who by any accepted criteria would be described as smoking hotties, all eyes would inevitably end up on Beyoncé.

It turns out that having hit the jackpot in the genetic lottery, and been rigorously trained for pop stardom from an early age, Beyoncé is very, very good at her job.

It goes without saying she’s a great singer and dancer. But it was her unmistakeable magnetism – the ease in which she held the crowd – that demonstrated how she’s become the biggest pop star of the 21st Century. Good enough to kill razor-sharp choreography, and to step away from it at any given moment for a wave and a smile, her zip-line flight to the back of the arena for an easy-going “Love on Top” was a master class in personal connection in an arena environment.

The show peaked with a triple-whammy of modern classics – “Survivor,” “Crazy In Love” and “Single Ladies” – before Beyoncé closed the show in a blaze of vocal gymnastics with a verse and chorus of “I Will Always Love You” that rolled into her own “Halo.”

Beyoncé’s stringent obsession with controlling her own brand image meant that we, nor any other media outlet, were able to send professional photographers to this tour. Which is a shame, because concerts this fantastic deserve to be widely documented. As a blend of show-womanship, sexiness and a stream of great pop songs, it does not get any better.