As is his wont, Adam Green haphazardly emerged on stage a few minutes after his band had struck up, dancing like a lunatic and grinning like a idiot. He was apparently having the time of his life. His band, looking a little more weary with each new antic, may have been having less fun.

A decent if somewhat manic set followed, mixing old favourites with tracks from new album Minor Love. Islands of calm intervened here and there – technical difficulties like a belt needing tightening and long, surreal anecdotes about loneliness – but Green always returned to all things frantic and full-on. Broadcast Beach, cannily doctored to Brighton Beach for the night, went down a storm, as did Emily.

The strange thing about the set was this: even though Green seemed constantly on the verge of messing up, or giving up, or just passing out, it never seemed as if he actually would.

He didn’t miss a note, or a cue, or the edge of the stage, once.

Closing with the ever-popular Jessica, and returning with the controversial No Legs, Green charmed his audience, guests for one night, to the hilt. But not, I doubt, his long-suffering band.