You probably wouldn't recognise unassuming Mancunian duo Mark Rae and Steve Christian in the street anyway, but with a touring band of eight musicians and three vocalists they threaten to fade into the background of their own show. Even when Rae does step forward to introduce a song, he sounds less like one of Britain's most talented hip-hop and soul producers than a mobile DJ asking the owner of the F-reg Peugeot to move their car.
There's not much room for ego in Rae and Christian's world. Their two albums to date (Northern Sulphuric Soul and Sleepwalking) paint them as inheritors of the northern soul ethos - white Englishmen curating black America's past. Touchstones here are classic soul, reggae and hip-hop, not the pulse-quickening futurism of Missy Elliott or OutKast. At worst, the reverence is studious cap-doffing, an imitation of life.
Like all hip-hop fans, the pair will have seen too many live shows degenerate into flabby pantomime to make the same mistake themselves - and this is slick, engaging entertainment. Overcoming the inevitable absence of studio collaborators such as Sharleen Spiteri, Bobby Womack and the Pharcyde, they let homegrown soul diva Veba, reggae singer Spikey T and rapper Supernatural share the spotlight, like a resuscitated Soul II Soul or Massive Attack minus the menace, while they take care of turntables (Rae) and choppy funk guitar (Christian). Every time the band's solid grooves threaten to meander off into the acid jazz tundra, a star turn sets them back on track.
"Hold something in the air," says Supernatural, the jovial, dreadlocked world freestyle champion. "Doesn't matter what . . . 'Cause I can rhyme about anything." And indeed he can, rattling off lines about a shoe, a lighter and - even - a bra. It's pure crowd-pleasing genius.
Next up, flat-capped double bassist Sneaky and skinny DJ Peter Parker - who record as Fingathing for Rae and Christian's label, Grand Central - generate a spiky, avant-garde funk from muscular basslines and virtuoso scratching.
When Veba joins them for the eerily seductive Slippin', you witness the night's sole flash of genuine innovation. It's telling that the scrupulously democratic Rae and Christian aren't even on stage at this point. Looking on proudly, they seem happy to remain the invisible band.
