A young couple sit in the bar supping a swift half of bitter and chomping on sliced apple on crackers, it can only mean one thing; there is world music on tonight. And no bad thing it is either.

Tunng with Tinariwen

Tunng with Tinariwen

The venue is crammed to capacity with beards, beanie hats and second-hand clothes waiting to see what a strange collaboration between an English “folktronica” band and a nomadic clan of former-guerillas-turned-musicians will reveal.

The unlikely partnership between three members of the Algerian blues collective Tinariwen, meaning desert boys, and Tunng, the experimental musicians who blend traditional folk of England’s past with crackling digital beats and lyrics about drinking tea and murder at Little Chef, started on BBC Radio 3.

Tunng with Tinariwen

The two groups performed together on the Late Junction where the groovy desert blues clicked with Tunng’s eccentric folk-pop. The atmosphere is expectant as the crowd waits to see whether the two disparate sounds can possibly work together for an entire gig or if a glorious failure is on the cards.

Appearing like a mirage, three men dressed in full desert regalia, complete with resplendent turbans leaving only their eyes visible, take to the stage. It is clear immediately that this is no ordinary Friday night gig.

The exotic tribal blues of Tinarwen have the crowd in a blissful trance from the off; the maracas, djemba drums, exquisite guitar and tribal clobber transform a windy, bitter Manchester into a sun-soaked Saharan evening.

At the end of the first song the audience awakes from their somnambulistic state in an explosion of applause, no one has a chance of understanding the lyrics though - unless there are any fluent Tuareg speakers in - but it doesn’t matter; anyone with ears and an open mind cannot fail to hear an intriguing band at work.

Pasty men with beards and a love of huge-rimmed hats, and the rest of Tunng join them onstage and the contrast could not be more striking, but one thing is constant; they all wear wide grins clearly enjoying their new-found alliance. “We have spent a week with these lovely gentlemen drinking cups of tea and learning. The whole point of tonight is to try and blend different types of music,” Tunng’s Mike Lindsay offers in way of an explanation.

Tunng with Tinariwen

From the reaction of the audience, the blending of the two bands’ sounds is a soaring success, they are respectful yet ebullient as couples dance with one another and a general good time is had by all.

The Tinariwen trio impresses the most, their hypnotic rhythms and balls-out rock n roll does not deserve such a restrictive and limiting tag as “World Music”, it is, at times, undeniable funky, psychedelic even, and also deeply melodic and mesmerising. Despite Tunng’s best efforts, the performance leaves you wondering what a full seven-piece Tinariwen band could offer.

That is not to say Tunng do not add something to the event, when performing their own material the blistering guitar and tribal percussion of Tinarwen elevate the songs to a new dimension. “This is about an old woman that murders people,” says Lindsay before a dirty fat electronic beat, a whimsical Celtic acoustic guitar and the sound of Africa combine to reveal just why these two bands came together.

The experiment is a definite success and the smiles on the performer’s faces confirm it, after the last song the audience goes berserk and do not let the super group leave without an encore.

By the time it’s all over there is no doubt that beneath those turbans Tinariwen are smiling too.

Edward Devlin