Picture, if you will, the best school orchestra you’ve ever heard (yes, this requires a little imagination). Add to this crooning that sounds like it has travelled down the ages almost intact from a 19^th century workhouse, an assorted menagerie of instruments, and more raucous tomfoolery than any conducting teacher could ever hope to contend with, then you have something approximating the incredible experience of Bellowhead live. Despite drawing from influences as diverse as colliery brass bands, jazz-funk, classical strings and big band riffs, and featuring instruments as disparate as a squeeze box and sax, this eclectic eleven-strong band’s sound seemed somehow cohesive and captured an unmistakably English essence.

Perhaps this isn’t something we as a nation should be particularly flattered by; it can’t be denied that Bellowhead’s style, complimented by hilarious onstage banter, is most accurately described as shamelessly daft. Apparently the only thing more enjoyable than watching the clan career through their set was being part of the riotous action on stage. Dancing and swapping instruments with gay abandon, the crew completely obliterated any misgivings the audience might have had about embracing something that was at moments unabashedly twee or about Englishness being more about modest tea sipping. Instead, the crowd were up on their feet to proudly proclaim their daftness and test the architectural foundations of the Bristol Old Vic - the perfect intimate venue for ditties often so unsavoury that it seemed only fitting that you should be able smell a hint of your neighbour’s sweat.

Underpinning all of this silliness however, there was most definitely awesome musicianship; a valuable lesson to anyone learning the art of entertaining. First comes rigorous mastering of your discipline…Slapstick fiddling and songs about wizard sex will all follow in good time.

www.bellowhead.co.uk