Ani DiFranco is that rarest of artists – someone who makes music so naturally that it seems to seep from right out of her pores and into the atmosphere around her. On record, she is a revelation, writing lyrics that might not attract the same degree of hype, but still quietly hit Emimen’s home turf for sheer inventive quality and skill. She is outrageously prolific, highly individual and hugely gifted.

Technically, all she needs to do here tonight is to reproduce the best material from her numerous albums. And given that an adoring crowd is by turns hanging on her every breath, chanting her name and begging for favourite songs, this shouldn’t pose a problem. Right?

Well, no, actually. As anyone who has ever had the misfortune to see Bob Dylan live will testify, great artists have a nasty way of murdering their own material.