Lou Donaldson, the 74-year-old Carolina-born alto saxophonist, is one of the heroes of the acid-jazz movement. He had hit records with catchy, blues-infused pop-jazz in the 60s and combines an earthy expressiveness with the fluidity and urgent sound of his first model, Charlie Parker.

There were a few occasions when the still fluent Donaldson abandoned backbeat-whacking funk for some flat-out classic bebop. On the funky Gravy Train, the saxophonist stretched a snaky melody that sounded like a mutation of Flight of the Bumble Bee over the obligatory backbeat. Lonnie Liston Smith, an inspired melodramatist, delivered all the authentic Hammond favourites: from stabbing, drumlike single lines to hisuhis, like the balefully churning trills that taunt the audience into endless anticipation and the stabbing, drumlike single lines. He also took his volume down to imperceptibility from time to time, conveying the silent music only by a snake charmer-like undulating of the fingers.

Donaldson sang hilarious blues in a strangulated warble and though his biggest hit, Alligator Boogaloo, sounded no more interesting a melody than it ever has, everybody took to it as if it were sheer magic.