After the dreary “solo and acoustic” shows which Beck put us through last time he was in London, when he presented himself in the unconvincing guise of a lovelorn folk poet, what a joy it was on Wednesday night to welcome back the existential bluesman, bohemian rapper and hustler-showman of times gone by.

Now 34, but still a slender and curiously ageless figure, he led a rag-tag, five-man troupe of multitasking musicians through some of the best party music on the planet. Some of them looked as if they should have been in Kraftwerk, especially the dude whose job description seemed to include bashing hell out of various drums and even a rubbish bin and making robotic dance moves. Others, such as the long-haired guy with the bass around his knees, were from the old school of rock’n’roll.

But all of them were required to weigh in on a variety of percussion instruments. This constant riot of rhythmic activity began early with the number Clap Hands, an extraordinarily simple but pleasing rap and clap routine that defined the energetic mood of the gig that followed.

While various old favourites surfaced here and there, including rousing versions of Devil’s Haircut, Loser and Tropicalia, a substantial proportion of the set was taken up with songs from Beck’s new album, Guero. This collection is the closest the Californian wonder kid has come to replicating the peculiar magic of his breakthrough album of 1996, Odelay, and new songs such as Black Tambourine, Hell Yes and Girl sounded like instant classics. A phenomenal performance of the stoner-blues song Scarecrow found Beck’s lyric painting a chilling picture — “Crows are pulling at my clothes/ The wind got my fingers froze/ All alone by a barren well/ The scarecrow’s only scaring himself” — while a harmonica from hell echoed forlornly in the mix behind.

Then there was the “dinner party” section. While Beck serenaded the audience, accompanying himself on an acoustic guitar, the band sat at a table with glasses of wine and beer. After tucking into shish kebab, the diners started banging cutlery and crockery while Beck continued singing, to produce a bizarre piece of rock’n’roll theatre of the absurd.

The evening ended with two more of the newer songs — the brilliant hit single E-Pro and the Spanish-language stroll through the East Los Angeles barrio, Qué Onda Guero — a perfectly judged finish to a masterful performance.

Apollo, Manchester, tonight; Waterfront Hall, Belfast, tomorrow; Olympia, Dublin, Monday

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