Acieeeeeeeeed:Jeremy Deller's Acid Brass @ EartH.

Chicago. Detroit. 808. 303. Throbbing Gristle. Psycick TV (sic). Kraftwerk. Shoom. Spectrum. KLF. Spiral Tribe. Ibiza. M25. Castlemorton. Warehouse parties. The North. Festivals. The Miners Strike. Clapham Common. Civil unrest. Civic pride. 808 State. Gerald. Hardcore. Techno. E. Sound systems. Free parties. Drum'n'bass. Melancholy. CJB. Balearic. Summers of love. Return to work. Electro. Jack. Pit bands. Bandstands. Breakbeat. Deindustrialisation.

And not forgetting acid house and brass bands. In 1997 Jeremy Deller made an artwork called History of the World which, spoiler alert, did not tell the history of the world but, instead, told the history of working class northern culture in the 80s/90s (welcome to them) and how both brass bands and acid house played pivotal roles in that culture. Even more than his inflatable Stonehenge, it is Deller's greatest creation.

But why stop with just drawing parallels with those seemingly discrete northern musical touchstones (even if both spread far beyond the north and both have roots elsewhere - brass bands are huge in the Balkans and New Orleans, acid house came out of Chicago)? Why not get a brass band to play acid house classics?

That's the route Deller went down and the Acid Brass group, now under the stewardship of Jack Jones - who also plays the flugelhorn in the band, have been making irregular performances for nearly three decades now. At festivals, galleries, pubs, and clubs and, last night, at EartH in Hackney. Or, to give it its full name Evolutionary Arts Hackney.

It was my first time in the venue and I must say I was impressed even if a can of lemonade didn't come particularly cheap (cheaper than last weekend's Lambeth Country Show, mind). The main auditorium is the site of a former cinema and you can tell. It means there's a pleasant amphitheatre feel with seating on the stairs, a few chairs near the front, and a small (but big enough) space for dancing. 

The dancing began with one person, a handful of others awkwardly but impressively joined, and by the end of the night the dancefloor was so full there were people at the back near the bar cutting their own personal rugs. There's also an Art Deco theatre area (which I didn't get to see) and a club space underneath the main room. A Guy Called Gerald was playing at the afterparty which would have been good but it went on until 3am and I wasn't even drinking booze let alone partaking of any other recreational treats.

Support act Mermaid Chunky were on almost as soon as we'd arrived. I knew the name but I had no idea what they'd sound like. Two young women, in fancy outfits with painted faces, playing saxophone, synth, a recorder (in fact, at one point, two recorders at once) and having a jolly old time of it as their impressive music reminded me at various points of Ethiopiques compilations, Joanna Newsom, and even Disney. At one point they even interpolated Little April Shower from Bambi into one song.

In places, they ramped the BPM up to something adjacent to, if not actually of, electronic dance music. At other times they allowed the whimsy to take prominence. Even inviting various dancers and flag wavers on to the stage like a junior school performance curated by The Incredible String Band after everyone's had a little bag of ketamine.

When two pantomine horses (one wearing Crocs as they are so prone to do), a couple of frogs, and some kind of aquatic bird took to the stage to strut their stuff you could almost be at a Flaming Lips gig. Although musically they hued far closer to the likes of Gong than the acid fried Oklahamo punk elders. I surprised myself a little by thoroughly enjoying their set and they'd set the bar pretty high for the Acid Brass band.

Introduced by Deller himself, who said he was to "blame" for the evening, the Acid Brass band is a large group. There's about thirty of them. Trumpets, trombones, flugelhorns, French horns, and tubas. Though, sadly, no sousaphone. You can't beat a sousaphone. All of the musicians, and the conductor, were decked out in black trousers and black t-shirts with capital Es in yellow on the front and acid smileys on the back.

Except the percussionists who wore the letters A, C, I, and D. Sesame Street was brought to you today by the letters of A, C, I, and D. We all remember the episode when Big Bird and Mr Snuffleupagus dropped a tab and opened their minds to a world of possibilities.

From the start the band were on it - and I don't mean in the same way as Big Bird. Tight interpretations of acid house classics with driving percussion and something that sounded like the Countdown clock ticking away in the background. The musicians, one of them particularly - the tuba player at the top of this blog, seemed to be having a great time and the conductor played the audience as eagerly as he led the band.

For the shame I didn't recognise that many tunes but standouts came in the form of 808 State's Pacific State (eerily like the recorded version), KLF's What Time Is Love?, and, best of all A Guy Called Gerald's Voodoo Ray. Which even prompted something of a singalong.

After a couple of encores, another run out for the KLF tune - with this many members in a group the repertoire won't be huge - and it was all done. The musicians and conductor lined up to spell out ACIEEEEEED, we all cheered, I said goodbye to my mate Mark (whose idea the night had been), and took the Windrush line from Dalston Junction back to Honor Oak Park.

Home at a sensible hour. I was fast asleep as Dalston's young and beautiful danced the night away to A Guy Called Gerald, Tia Cousins, and Warlock and I'm at the age now that I don't even mind that. I'd had a lovely night. Thanks to Jeremy Deller, Acid Brass, and Mermaid Chunky and thanks to Mark for suggesting it, treating me to tasty Nepalese dumplings in the House of MoMo beforehand, and for hanging out. It'd been a year since I'd seen him but we've vowed to catch up again much sooner next time. Acieeeeeeeeeed!