The launch event for Liverpool's tenure as the Capital of Culture begins with a giant video screen declaring the city "the centre of the creative universe". The audience respond not with thunderous applause, but a ripple of unmistakeably sardonic laughter. It is an early sign that the evening is not going to go entirely according to plan.
There are some areas of rock and pop that Liverpool has never mastered, including hip-hop - midway through the show, a Scouse rapper is brought on stage for the specific purpose of proving this - but, even leaving its most famous export aside, has plenty to celebrate musically.
Though kind of music is difficult to celebrate if you cannot hear it properly, and the sound in the Liverpool Echo Arena is awful. Everything is too quiet. The Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra succeed in drowning out a choir, then Echo and the Bunnymen. Ringo Starr's specially written Liverpool 8 perfectly encapsulates a number of fabled Scouse traits - it is mawkishly sentimental and has a nice way with a tune - but it is bedevilled by ear-splitting crackling.
Occasionally, the show stops being shambolic long enough to be completely baffling. The rise of Merseybeat is illustrated by two acrobats writhing erotically around each other to a sultry version of I Put a Spell On You. In the background, footage of Gerry and the Pacemakers plays, sultry eroticism having been very much their trademark.The Beatles' All You Need Is Love is matched to film of the space shuttle, thus recognising Liverpool's legendary contribution to the space programme.
The audience receive all of this coolly, which seems sporting of them: there are moments when you marvel that they have not been moved to march on the Liver Building demanding restitution.
Equally, there are times when the show fitfully sparks. Shack's Pull Together works, set to footage of Liverpool and Everton supporters. Pete Wylie's Heart As Big As Liverpool shamelessly pushes the emotional buttons.
But it does not so much end as peter out, when Starr invites his fellow performers to join in on John Lennon's Power to the People. The former Beatle is immediately elbowed away from the microphone by our old friend the Scouse rapper, who everybody has been looking forward to seeing more of. Ringo is reduced to jumping up and down in a bid to be seen amid the throng.
It is an anti-climactic ending to an underwhelming evening. Phil Redmond takes the stage just before the finale and delivers a speech: "This is just the beginning. It's going to get bigger and better." There's no mistaking the tone: not triumphant, but placatory.
