Oojami is not a band, it's a studio project pieced together by Necmi Cavli using samples and sequencers plus vocals and "authentic" sounds: percussion, trombone, guitar, violin, and so on. By grafting Turkish culture on to machine-driven commercial dance rhythms, Cavli is following a path similar to that of the Gotan Project and St Germain, but instead of tango or jazz he's adapting his own musical heritage, with ear-catching instruments such as the ney and the saz.

The live version of Oojami is built around Cavli's sequencer, but he knows that audiences want a bit more than a bloke with headphones and a laptop. In addition to the backline of drums, percussion, guitar and saz, they bring on (at different times) a fez-wearing Sufi dancer, a smiling trapeze artist and two flat-stomached belly dancers. Not to mention violinist Nicola Cavli, several singers and a rapper. When they all stand together at the end of the gig, they're bigger (in number) than the Vortex Foundation Big Band.

It's just as well they put so much into the show, because they're launching the new Oojami album, Urban Dervish (Hubble Bubble), at one of the country's least charismatic venues, the Islington Carling Academy. Imagine a university refectory bar with the interior design values of a neglected leisure centre.

Fortunately, there are enough good moments to create a decent atmosphere, including thumping numbers such as Fantasy - from Bellydancing Breakbeats, the previous album.

Yet it's a recording project with extras. Endings are a problem, and several numbers feature ghosted performances emerging spookily from Cavli's PowerBook. Oojami's Turkish electropop also features chattering sequencer synths, but they're fine: that stuff always seems to come from nowhere - from outer space, or under the floorboards.