There’s something about the Ambassador that always makes me dizzy. I don’t know exactly what... the winding stairs or the giant flying saucer on the ceiling perhaps. Or maybe it’s the fact that virtually everything in here is coloured an unsettling shade of rusty red. Old before its time, almost.

The distinct edginess of the atmosphere - heightened by a prolonged opening DJ set - proved a sharp contrast to the sound that broke it.

Zero 7 filtered onto the stage like electronica’s answer to Slipknot. I kid you not; there’s loads of them.

Accompanied by a wealth of digital gadgetry and a decidedly vast collection of rotational singers - I counted five in total - they shattered the silence with a decidedly lo-fi indie trip - not the vain, egotistical sort; more of a provocative and progressive one, heavy on the harmonies and the soul.

They ease slowly over every lick and beat - keyboard electronics trickling into understated basslines and lightly folkish guitars. They mingle into an immense wall of complex and perfectly crafted sounds, perforated only by one of the many vocalists, each soaring over the top in a soulful melisma.

This is not the sort of music that is easily convincing, since by geographical logic, where fusion exists, so do faultlines. Possibly the greatest triumph of Zero 7 is the fact that they manage to pull it off virtually seamlessly. Their sound is essentailly a Spaghetti Junction of instrumentation, each element so intrinsic to the final effect that it’s impressive that they manage to balance it at all, not to mention craft it into a mesmerising and at times enchanting sonic experience.