FROM the moment Matthew Herbert makes his dramatic entrance, rising ghost-like through a trapdoor in the stage floor, it is clear the night is going to be something special.

His set incorporates the sampling techniques perfected by dance music boffins with some fantastic big band jazz tunes, taking in magic tricks, comedy and ingenious political satire along the way.

The support act, jazz pianist Bugge Wesseltoft, is at the opposite end of the jazz spectrum. Shuffling between his banks of equipment, this bespectacled, checked-shirt wearing Norwegian looks for all the world like a maths teacher. Wilfully experimental, his barrage of sound effects are so scary that at times I want my mummy.

Where Wesseltoft is abrasive, Herbert is harmonic. He begins by tapping a tea cup on its saucer, sampling and sequencing the sound through a battery of electronic gadgets, creating a mischievous, bouncy beat. Then the 20-plus jazz band, replete with conductor, walks on and takes up the rhythm.

It sounds like it shouldn't make sense, never mind great music. But however far Herbert pushes the envelope, he retains a deep respect for the big band sound and ensures he complements it, rather than contrasts.

The man who once recorded an entire album made up of sounds created by household objects proceeds to base tracks on the squeal of air leaving a balloon. The most audacious and brilliant moment in this marriage of swinging music and modern technology comes when singer Dani Siciliano graces the stage. A backdrop illuminates a giant Tony Blair, his mouth digitally altered so that he sings along with Ms Sicilano's lyrics in perfect time.

This was a night of glorious, innovative music and masterful showmanship.

Published: 01/05/2004