"This was billed as 'When Harry met Ken,'" said Ken Peplowski. "I just hope they're not expecting one of us to do a fake orgasm."

Actually, Harry Allen and Peplowski are more like Rodney and Del Boy from Only Fools and Horses than heroes of romantic comedy. Allen is the tall, slightly bewildered half of the partnership who plays the saxophone with great concentration, as though he's in the middle of a very difficult sum. Peplowski, once in the bands of Tommy Dorsey and Benny Goodman, is a dab hand at keeping the gags running, the audience laughing and the music pumping.

Pianist Bill Charlap provided a more than able accompaniment, together with Dave Green on double bass and Allan Ganley on drums, and the band's rendition of Lowlife, originally written for the Count Basie Band, allowed Allen to demonstrate his deep, classy tone.

With Jobim's tune No More Blues came a change of pace; Charlap's piano and Peplowski's clarinet introduction was so delicate as to stiffen the hairs on the back of the neck. The clarinet lagged mischievously, backed up by a shuffly drum rhythm, then overtaken by a piano interlude. Allen had less to do, but his lugubrious tone, proceeding down the scale towards the end of the number, cast a melancholy shadow against the jubilant clarinet.

"Here's Peplowski with a ballad," said Allen casually as he walked offstage. And what a ballad. Peplowski's tone on clarinet was luminescent, unrestrained. Its pared-down loveliness was unmarred by a run-up to higher notes, and the neat zigzag ending met with a bewitched hush.

Charlap took over for a Bud Powell number, and then it was Allen's turn to take the stage, with a high-speed chase which cranked up the pace by several notches. Peplowski joined in for the set's last number, The One I Love Belongs to Somebody Else, but his clarinet seemed a little too shrill, too lightweight, for the faster pace. It was down to Allen to bolster it with a more measured, languorous approach.

***** Unmissable **** Recommended *** Enjoyable
** Mediocre * Terrible