"Music is like a big house, and you get a different view when you put another window in it," drummer Steve Reid - Kieran Four Tet Hebden's equally wideeyed tinkerer-in-crime - has explained of their collaborative project.

"It could be a Coltrane window, it could be a Hendrix window, and we're going to put another window in the house."

It's always hard to predict how the sophisticated sounds of someone like Hebden will translate to the cold terrain of a live setting. Among his shadowbox of samples, one constant was the hum of audience chatter. But the concentration required over the full set seemed a small tax for the richness of what was on offer.

Floaty xylophonic loops took the atmosphere to the same place where evenings at home temporarily lend their soul to the beauty of Four Tet albums, only to drag them back in with earthy honks and engine roars.

Reid grabbed the role of drum grinder with glee, wilfully consigned to his life sentence in this acid lounge, loitering with intent in the backdrop of Hebden's stream of consciousness and occasionally winning release to unleash boisterous beats.

The flow with which broken nursery rhymes melted into organic bass had the precise formulation of a classical composition, taking a path that could never be second- guessed yet was always seamless and inspirationally inventive.

By the end, being blanketed in this wall of sound looked as blissful an experience for Hebden and Reid as it was for those who journeyed with them.