In an exchange which seems quite fair - we get the Scissor Sisters, the Americans get Gavin Rossdale - US acts often make it big here before ever getting a look-in in their own country, and vice versa. So it was with Kid Creole, who first entered the British pop charts in 1981. Not much of a kid any more, the quinquagenarian is back in London, praising the country he used to spend so much time in. With his dapper suit and tilted hat, combined with his mechanical dance moves, he looks not unlike Jim Carrey in The Mask.

It's odd that he was not initially understood in the US, though, because the melting-pot nature of his sound is so uniquely American: big-band swing giddied up by Hispanic spice, with some smooth soul thrown in. And, of course, there's the trio of lascivious dancing Coconuts - one of whom was once his wife.

That marriage is long over, and Kid tells us that the blonde ladies on stage tonight are the daughters of the original Coconuts, although they look more like a triptych of hired Eurotrash. The brass section are much happier, though unable to speak a word of English. The Kid beseeches us all to raise a cheer for the Brazilian saxophonist, who has apparently embraced modern times and taken his wife's surname - Jones. "But what'll you do when you get divorced?" ponders the Kid. Mr Jones just smiles.

Continuing with his feminist theme, the Kid dedicates Annie, I'm Not Your Daddy to "all the illegitimate children in the house". It is just fantastic, and with sidekick Bongo Eddie playing the congas, it's hard not to get taken over by it, stamping your feet and dancing along.