GIVEN that the interrogation ''Who put the Benzedrine in Mrs Murphy's

Ovaltine?'' has never been satisfactorily answered, it seems churlish to

suggest that art expert and vocalist George Melly was living on borrowed

time. I was there when he went. They carried him off and the band

completed the set. It is what he would have wanted.

The above scenario was actually only suggested by the man in the loud

suit after a particularly energetic bout of dancing made us all wonder

at the wisdom of his carrying on like his jokes were the oldest thing on

the stage. He's still camping it up to the limits of his physique,

adding new tunes to his repertoire with Wangfordesque titles like You

Call It Jogging But I Call It Running Around, and including the first

line of a dada poem in his scat singing. George loves a joke.

Chris Barber is rather more serious about his music. Still firmly

rooted in New Orleans, the immaculate eight-piece Barber Jazz and Blues

Band stray well from the time of their signature tune, Bourbon Street

Parade with their own Meters-ish Battersea Rain Dance. They are still

best, however, with the traditional repertoire: notably a fine reading

of King Oliver's Working Man Blues and a Royal Garden Blues featuring

young earringed drummer Russell and his surprisingly large kit.

An unrehearsed guest appearance by one-time Barber band vocalist (now

Ayr resident) Otalie Paterson with a blues and a Bill Bailey might have

been more effective if the arrangements elsewhere hadn't been quite so

sharp.