To his left, Hillbilly Joe brandishes his mandolin like an offensive weapon, playing with a lightning quick ferocity and intensity. Rude, crude with a maniacal energy that sees him in perpetual motion, tongue out and gurning, where most musicians would have a can of beer on their mic stand, Joe swigs from a bottle of 12year old Glenfiddich! That he can bounce around the stage as he does and still nail those riffs and solos with such expertise is nothing short of miraculous.

For all the fun and antics, there’s no denying the musical skills of these four musicians. They’re a hugely talented bunch, whose dexterity and technical ability can often be forgotten in amongst the laughs and the feel-good factor. It’s particularly impressive that a band without a drummer remain so perfectly in time and locked together, which can only be a result of their constant touring and playing. That and the bass prowess of the imposing Jake Byers, whose deep rumbling playing, provides a thunderous backdrop that is the perfect tapestry for the other three musicians to play over.

Mr Crowley has me wondering how they can possibly approach the guitar histrionics of the original but damn me they manage to pull off solos in a way that surely Randy Rhoads would approve of. That it somehow briefly segues into I Will Survive, in a wildly bizarre hybrid that you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams, is just one of the many left turns the band take throughout the night. Hayseed Dixie retain the ability to constantly surprise, going where you least expect it. Want Motorhead alongside Boney M? You got it. The White Stripes and Black Sabbath? Yep, them too. In fact, there’s a surprising amount of Black Sabbath and Ozzy in the set, most surprising of all being a rendition of Diary of a Madman, which sees a good section of the audience looking somewhat mystified whilst the rockers of a certain vintage nodded along with approving grins.