Canadian trumpeter Maynard Ferguson found fame in Stan Kenton's band, where his propensity for upper register squawking lead some detractors to call him a special-effects man rather than a musician. At 76 years of age, he still clearly delights in making a shrill racket, and his latest visit to Wigan - an old and familiar stomping ground - found him raising the roof with a mixture of big-band and pop standards.

Ferguson's international group Big Bop Noveau specialise in big-hearted swing with a twist of southern funk. Deftly arranged by trombonist Reggie Watkins, the tunes raced by like vividly orchestrated explosions, eliciting the kind of wild cheers that most jazz musicians only dream about. Sweat dripped, veins bulged, good taste frequently flew out of the window, yet such was the atmosphere of bonhomie that you'd have had to have a migraine not to enjoy at least some of it.

The evening began with a sassy, well-oiled version of Ellington's It Don't Mean a Thing. Pulling no punches, the band then launched into a rendition of The Girl from Ipanema, which sounded like a hyperactive hybrid of Henry Mancini and Isaac Hayes. Amid the noise there were one or two moments of genuine artfulness, including an ingenious drum solo that imitated a room full of grandfather clocks.

With a belly the size of a drum-kit, and a mischievous grin, the leader cracked jokes all night, shaking hands with his band-mates so often you'd be forgiven for thinking it was their final performance together. Good will overflowing, they even went walk-about in the audience, deafening all with a near-hysterical rendition of Hey Jude. It sounded like the end of the world, but was in fact only the end of the first half. It's at gigs like these that you need an interval just to stop your ears ringing.