So Madame JoJo’s is closing down.

And that makes me sad. Not so much for the demise of this legendary nightspot but for what it represents: Soho at its most gloriously seamy. Its transvestite cabaret nights are still (though seemingly not for much longer) a rare relic of old Soho. A place where dark alleys would lead you to secret little dens of iniquity. But the accent was always on vice rather than violence. Even at 2am, among the vagabonds, pimps and whores, I’ve always felt safe in Soho. Rapacious developers are apparently set to turn this part of Brewer Street into bland million-pound apartments. But you can’t put a price on the pleasure people derived from Madame JoJo’s. Especially the night I saw a man called “Liza” perform a flawless version of this.