Describe in a tweet: English soul man charms us all (while predicting the future).

What went down: From a music box to loop pedals, with streams of consciousness. Like poetry or preaching in the raggedy blues, rather like our own Foy Vance. We're treated to 'Surfing Guantanamo Bay', a wonderful blues funk misconception in the style of The Zutons or Gomez, before Mr. Ford closes with an Eraser/Radiohead-esque collection of loops. While sprinting around like a madman. An unexpected joy.

The Highlight: The serendipity of singing about "rain it all down, what more can you throw at me" while the rain falls off the stage onto the front row.