"A harpsichord in a club!" screams the flyer. The incongruity of hearing this baroque instrument is tempered by the fact that Jane Chapman was playing.

Chapman is a fearless contemporary music performer in the Frances-Marie Uitti mould. Flinging back her thick mane of blonde hair, she ends each piece - however dreadful - with a triumphant grin.

The programme comprises 15 items for harpsichord by 13 composers, eight specially commissioned. The challenge is to discover how this "difficult listening" music sounds in a club, with the audience standing on concrete rather than sitting on hard-backed chairs.

In fact, the glitchy, spiky sound of the harpsichord is well suited to some of the electronic accompaniment, such as that for Tim Hodgkinson's Carillon. And projected visuals contest and complement the compositions in different ways. For some, it's the pot-luck VJ-ing of Yashitaka Adachi. For others, there are synchronised films, as in Paul Burnell's slightly retro I, Cog, Elizabeth Walling's Demolition 1901 (which uses a film from that time), and Mica Levy's Tap, which makes witty play with the sight and sound of a dripping faucet, like a low-budget Greenaway short.

Some of the pieces simply don't work: too many short pieces sacrifice form for detail, or abandon compositional intent all together. And some of the overtly "accessible" pieces are all too reminiscent of those cheesy "boogaloo harpsichord" soundtracks from the 1960s. The composer who tries hardest to address the Cargo ambience is Yumi Hara, aka Anaconda, who also DJs for the evening.

But you have to respect Chapman's virtuosity and guts. You can admire occasional flights of ingenuity, such as in Paul Dibley's pulsing Invil, but the event is less than the sum of its parts.