IT’S not often that you go to a concert and right from the start it’s crystal clear that the musicians are not only masters of their instruments but also faithful to the chosen genre.

In the case of King Pleasure, the period is that strange, brief post-war musical limbo land when ballads had become tedious beyond belief and rock ‘n’ roll had yet to come caterwauling into the world.

Except, of course, that it had… creeping like some kind of wayward alley cat across the tracks into more respectable neighbourhoods and contaminating everyone who came near.

Jump jive, Kansas City swing – that’s what they called it back then, and when it comes to authenticity, the King and his courtiers are masters of this particular universe.

The format is fiendishly simple, as you might expect from the Devil’s music. A pounding rhythm section underscores roaring and riffing saxes that create the perfect ecosphere for the vocals of KP and his main featured instrumentalists, Chris Shirley on guitar and Matt Foundling in the piano chair.

Shirley is truly mesmerising as his licks, heavily influenced by the playing of such luminaries as Charlie Christian and Barney Kessel, cut through the air like a knife slicing pork fat. Big fat Gibson plus overdriven Fender amp makes for a heady mix of vintage sound.

Not to be outdone, Foundling becomes Pete Johnson at the drop of a fedora, occasionally straying into Albert Ammons’ neck of the piney woods.

However, the sax section is sometimes more King Curtis than King Pleasure, as epic versions of the staple Night Train and Back at the Chicken Shack proved with their endless rasping minor pentatonic excursions into melodic bliss.

Sometimes Basie, but always Louis Jordan, King Pleasure and his epic band are a vital reminder of the days when you could work all day, rock all night… and then do it all over again.