And it’s all the better for it: instead of rapid edits from multiple angles inducing migraines in its viewers, we get just three cameras patiently taking turns to soak in the orphic aura cast by the Dots’ confident showmanship. In this way we get to see the gig as if we were stood before the lip of the stage, turning our heads so as to catch Martijn de Kleer’s unassuming six-string accompaniment, or the soloing, mesmeric flute of Niels van Hoorn from the back of the stage, as well as the founding members more prominent presence. Indeed, the film’s up-close position starts by revealing The Silverman seemingly struggling from within his brimming circle of lysergic musical technologies to kickstart a Tenori-on as Edward Ka-Spel patiently waits to ignite the set’s opener, ‘Unlikely Event’, with his storytelling. Indeed, Ka-Spel takes a firm stance centre stage throughout as he orates in a wholly English manner bringing to mind not just Syd Barrett but also Bowie and even Danny the dealer, the roller of the mythic ‘Camberwell carrot’ in Withnail & I.

Like this first track, tonight’s songs are largely selected from the Dots 21st Century repertoire, with only ‘Choke’ from their earliest cassette releases and a few fan favourites from the early nineties appearing throughout the second half. This is a strong indication, if ever one were needed, that the Legendary Pink Dots are far from today’s rash of hastily reformed acts in search of the pension fund they forgot. On the evidence of this performance one gets the strong impression that The Dots, having never really gone away, are merely doing what they’ve always done, quite possibly the only way they know how to live, a facet betrayed by this truly confident, singularly visionary performance, luckily captured in a straightforward, no frills, manner as if you were there on the night