KEY POINTS:
The four members of Kraftwerk appear first as silhouettes - not as robots as you might expect. Then, as the taut glitch and vocoder vocals of The Man-Machine escalate, the curtains open to reveal the German electronic band spread across the stage in an orderly line, standing stealth behind their lap-tops and keyboards.
Other than the ocassional chuckle, and nod to each other, it's static and business-like for two hours of electronic bliss with band leader Ralf Hutter directing things from stage right.
It's the visuals, beamed onto a giant screen behind them, that provide all the action - from the gently falling pills and capsules during Vitamin, to beautifully grainy cycling action from the Tour de France, and vintage footage of some gorgeous models during The Model.
The band were last here at the 2003 Big Day Out when they wowed and warped a few minds - but an hour was not nearly long enough.
And the Town Hall is a far better place to experience these musical pioneers. They are, it's safe to say, the godfathers of electronic music thanks to classic 70' albums Autobahn, Radio-Activity, Trans Europe Express and The Man-Machine.
Early in the set Tour De France, one their most well-known tracks released in 1983, gets a throbbing, contemporary reworking (with modern day cycling visuals as a backdrop) before they crack into the original version (accompanied by old race footage when riders were fuelled by coffee, amphetamines and cocaine instead of EPO).
The bouncy and kitsch Pocket Calculator - another early 80s track from around the same time as the humble Commodore 64 home computer - is the most light-hearted and fun part of the night.
And with the vroom, vroom of the intro to Autobahn they gently open the throttle and took us for drive through the German countryside; then there's Kraftwerk's most beautiful song, Neon Lights, which made for a tranquil interlude; and Showroom Dumbies came complete with smashing glass.
To prove the influence the Germans have had on dance music, Radioactivity from 1976 provided the best dance of the night. This prophetic piece of music started with a barrage of twisted sonics that gave way to a solid dancefloor groove.
And later comes the pulsing and panting highlight, Trans-Europe Express, which morphs into Metal On Metal, easily the heaviest - most metal - moment of the set.
It was, as a friend said, all killer, no filler.
For the encore, the curtain opened to reveal four robots - looking part showroom dumbie, part droid - for The Robots.
Then the humans came back on, resplendent in skin-tight body suits, with fluoro green stripes from head to toe, to close with the camp techno of Musique Non-Stop.
They exit one by one, with Hutter the last to leave. "Thank you. New Zealand," were his only words to the audience and with a polite and appreciative bow the Man-Machine was gone.
