The Ghost of Martin Hannett...

The bay window at The Lloyds, where legendary producer Martin Hannett used to hold court.

They say that Chorlton local and legendary producer Martin Hannett used to randomly mess with people's gear to throw them off their guard and thereby open up their creativity in the studio. Whether this was true or not, I don't know, but what I do know is that gear in all forms was definitely playing up when Marjorie directed us into Manchester on election night and to Totally Wired at The Lloyds Hotel.

First the car park. Only one tichet machine was working, and it was refusing cards. Taking the warning signs of ANPR cameras seriously, I tried to feed it with enough pound coins to let me stay until at least 11pm. But the machine had other ideas, only accepting two of them. I could only stay until 10pm. I'd planned to stay late, then get home and stay up to see the first general election results come in. Grumpily, I walked through the curiously gentrified "urban village" and into the venue. 

The Lloyds Hotel is an impressive pile. The high-ceilinged affluent Victorian architecture is intact. An impressive interior hints at the sheer amount of money sloshing around the city by the end of the 19th century.

That's what you might call a staircase!

The gig itself was in the main bar, which was slowly filling with Thursday night drinkers. I like an audience. It's OK playing for other performers and the mates you've dragged along, but the proof of the pudding is in what normal people think!

A big stage in a big room!

The gig was fairly late starting, but when it did, we were in for multiple treats. 

PP Roy was the first act of the evening, and what a revelation. He blends smooth 60s samples with banging beats and synth refrains to create something truly unique and very satisfying. I was put in mind of various St Etienne album tracks, but that's just a vague approximation. His sound is much more. He received some very enthusiastic applause, which he met with big grins at the end of each track. I hope to see him play again soon. Very well recommended.

PP Roy creating a smooth and flowing meld of 60s samples and up-to-the-minute beats and synths.

Also recommended is Afroelektronica. He blends the rhythms of his home country of Sierra Leone with acid, house and techno to take us on a journey into imagined underground clubs in Africa. The whole sound is complex, full and wide-ranging. Some of it was slow and considered, with vocoded vocals, other tracks were full on dance

Afroelektronica, blending ethnic beats from his home in sierra Leone with cutting edge digital synth technology.

We were up next. Our setup process is always the same, and every step causes something to happen to prove it works. I plugged the keyboard into the USB MIDI hub. The keyboard is always left turned on so that when I plug it in, it powers up, and I know that both it and the hub are powered and working. My stomach turned over to see that it didn't power up. I unplugged it and plugged it in again. It remained dead. Switch it off and on - that's what they say. It was only then I discovered that, despite the power switch being in a recessed place and difficult to get to, IT WAS SWITCHED OFF! Was the ghostly producer messing with me? 

Then, when we began to play, I realised the sound was really muffled. I added some highs on the mixer that sits in front of my keyboard. Nothing happened, but I could see the bell curve grow on the EQ8 it's linked to on the master channel. Phew, it was certainly leaving the audio interface nice and bright as it always does! I looked over to the mixer to the right of me. The EQ knobs were at 0dB. So, why was everything muffled? 

When we'd finished, a couple of audience members came up to say how much they'd enjoyed our set, but all I wanted to know is did they think the sound was muffled? Apparently not! Hmmm. Something was not right here. Should I break out the Ouija board and complain to Hannett personally?

All set up, but with the distinct feeling that someone up there was playing games with us.

Puzzled, I packed up the gear, and the mighty Analogue Electronic Whatever started to set up. I glanced at the time. 9:45 already! The dreaded ANPR cameras were waiting to pounce! I had to break a cardinal rule of EMOM: Thou shalt stay to watch the other acts, for which I feel very guilty. I really do. 

So, another lesson learned. Always have loads of change in the car in the form of 50p and 20p pieces as well as £1 coins just in case the machine is having a bad day.

After I got home, I set up and played a few tracks. They all sounded fine. I sent Tam Boker, the evening's organiser, a message. It turns out one of the tweeters had blown. 

Oi, Hannett! Stop it!