There was the "official" performance, in which the New Orleans brass band tradition infiltrated some imaginary world, part 1930s New York speakeasy, part Marseilles dive, part Weimar Republic intrigue, part Jamaican ska party, part DJ-driven urban jungle. Then there was a fairly generous encore, when brass and percussion took the music into an audience who had been cajoled front of stage with the suggestion that Mardi Gras BB going back home to Mannheim with an image of Scots as people who "dance only in the dark and in the flanks" would be regrettable.
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