Roni Size and Dynamite MC at Studio, K Rd

Roni Size

Roni Size grins from behind a table stacked with a laptop, turntables and a two-litre container of orange juice as the bass rips through the room.

Earlier in the day he apparently had had an altercation with the sound guy after being refused play at full volume. Now the volume is bordering on breaking point.

Beside him, his baseball-capped Reprazent sidekick, Dynamite MC paces the stage, riding the beat with tight, natty, yet unobtrusive rhymes. You couldn't tell it had been a hard 24 hours for him, either. After eating bad sushi the night before he had spent the day vomiting.

The crowd throbs in appreciation as the music turns dark, tribal. Meanwhile, a conversation starts at the bar: "He will never ever play Brown Paper Bag again."

"But it's a classic."

"It's too obvious. His last two albums were a bit cheesy so he's got something to prove."

It's a crude summary of Size's recording career but, for the most part, seems to sum up the drum'n'bass legend's set.

Forget hearing any of his anthemic tunes in their entirety, or the "obvious" crowd-pleasers from his Mercury Prize-winning album, New Forms. This is Size at his most minimal, much like his latest album, Return to V.

Until he drops Brown Paper Bag, that is. It's the first of a few glimpses at the genius of his Motown and jazz-influenced drum'n'bass.

Elsewhere, the references to his defining album are subtle: a double bass sample here, a scrambled breaks pattern there, a clinical loop that he'll somehow warp into something soulful - even touching on reggae at one point.

When he does drop the big tunes, they're not his.

A seamless drum'n'bass interpretation of Layo and Bushwacka's Love Story is mixed with the soulful house tune from Major Boyz and Kathy Brown.

There's a hint of DJ Zinc's Super Sharp Shooter minus the alphabetical breakdown, plus Amerie's club favourite One Thing ("that's got me trippin"') and a strangely effective drum'n'bass version of the Latin opera, Carmina Burana.

They're welcome moments in a flurry of hard and heavy beats, which, despite their intensity, can leave you cold.