How mad, precisely, is Lee 'Scratch' Perry? As he ambles onstage with a red suitcase on wheels, a children's box of animal noises, and a mirrored cap that also features a lit josstick, the easy temptation is to think of this 67-year-old reggae legend as away with the fairies. "I refuse to be a freak," he announces, standing on one leg, then goes into a version of the nursery rhyme 'This Old Man...' which mainly consists of the word "exercise" repeated over and over.
All very charming, of course, if a little boring. But since Perry is this year's curator of the South Bank's annual Meltdown fandango, you do wonder how many of the eccentricities are spontaneous, and how many are a well-practised routine. There's a paradox at the heart of this year's festival: Perry's reputation as a cultural icon rests on his astounding and radical work as a reggae producer in the '70s. But production is something he has rarely done in years - he co-produced his utterly mediocre new album, 'Alien Starman', but it's hardly the kind of time-bending, disorienting trip that made his name.
Tonight is billed as a soundclash of sorts, wherein Coldcut and Tortoise will subject their music to a live mix by Perry and his estimable British disciple, The Mad Professor. Perhaps inevitably, it doesn't work out quite that way. First the Coldcut duo with four vision mixers and a frankly ridiculous amount of gear, play dreary, dated ambient dub with some samples of Lee Perry waffling away and an amazingly clichéd selection of video images. After a while, Perry and the Mad Professor turn up.
The latter positions himself behind an echo deck in a giant crown and plays pretty good dub. Perry, meanwhile, works through his repertoire of weirdness in reasonably endearing style, even though a pesky cameraman dogs his every move. This is a videoclash, apparently: live footage of Perry shot from quirky angles, then treated to cod-psychedelic effects not terribly different to those from a '70s Top Of The Pops show.
Tortoise aren't a band who've ever felt the need to affect lunacy, preferring to get on with subtly adjusting the margins between genres. Tonight's set is similar to the one they played at the Thrill Jockey festival in the winter, though there are a couple of new songs and a pleasing return to tunes from their 1994 debut. The obvious thing to do, perhaps, would be for Tortoise to accentuate their dub side, to be mellower, less busy than usual, more spacious.
That doesn't happen, of course. Tonight sees the Chicago five-piece at their edgiest and most crotchety. Songs from 2001's 'Standards' like 'Eros' and 'Eden' are dirtied up. Johnny Herndon and John McEntire take turns at playing great hardcore drum breaks. Douglas McCombs' bass is more taut and menacing than his usual lugubrious twang. And guitarist Jeff Parker, sat down, is revelatory, mixing up fierce Hendrix blasts (on 'Seneca') with fractious improv passages that recall Derek Bailey.
Perry eventually returns for the encore. And, once again, the live mix is left to the Mad Professor, as Perry contents himself with extemporising nonsense over a couple of patchy jams on old Tortoise tunes. The fact that he doesn't acknowledge the band - does he even know who they are, we wonder - isn't necessarily a sign of other-worldliness. It could just as easily be a sly old operator going through the motions, after having realised some time ago that being a lovable old clown, never to be relied upon, is a much easier job than reshaping the way music sounds.
Geniuses could do worse things in retirement, I guess.
