I thoroughly enjoyed the whole gig but here is what the Guardian has to say today. (As usual very quick OCR so beware the errors.) John Zorn Barbican, London **** Twenty years ago, on his first visits to Britain, John Zorn sounded like an inspired sax free improviser who would remain consigned to the same fascinating twilight world as most practitioners of that lawless art. Now he's a kind of star, playing a dramatic mix of thrash rock, terrifying freeblasting, quirky lyricism and Ornette Coleman influenced jazz that packs concert halls. The 2003 Barbican Jazz series ended with the latest edition of Zorn's Masada project: traditional Jewish melodies and scale structures dropped into a cauldron of jump-cut free improvising, The band followed a stirring performance by Zorn protege Roberto Rodriguezs El Danzon de Moises, a fascinating investigation of rarely visited links between Cuban and Jewish music, mostly spawned in the expat communities of Miami. Thrilling improvisational virtuosity came from klezmer clarinettist David Krakauer, viola player Meg Okura and Rodriguez himself, a one-man Cuban percussion section. Zorn's Electric Masada is the Incredible Hulk version of a project that has previously framed these variously vivacious and dolorous tunes within jazz and chamber music formats. After a perfunctorily shouted name check, Zorn signalled a massive chord explosion that should have come with a fasten seatbelts sign. Zorn's high pitched dissonant sax and the remarkable drummer Kenny Wollesen a kind of free improv 1970s stadium rocker then whistled above and thundered beneath the ear splitting melee. But Zorn has a composer's sense of form the root of his popularity. With urgent, jabbing gestures at the sextet, he stopped the onslaught dead, coaxed a relaxed Latin percussion groove into life and threaded in a typically lilting Masada melody. More barrages, more lyricism, some David Sanborn-on-acid distorted funk saxophone, and the first of several hell driving solos from Zorn regular Marc Ribot followed, with Ribot looking about as transported as a guitarist can while still sitting down. A Wollesen drum intro like a free Gene Krupa led to a typically fragmented Zorn episode, where he pointed at each player in turn to demand a brief outburst of improvisation, then a cyclonic fast-funk episode swelling with electronics, a wash of impressionistic, seagull calling sounds, an engagingly simple melody like a Jewish Zorba the Greek, a delicious Ribot slow reverie and an acceleration to another tumult, Zorn by now unleashing quacking sounds from the detached sax mouthpiece. It was tight furious, intense, startlingly varied, and a howling audience demanded a raw and dissonant encore when they abruptly signed off. John Fordham NP Electric Masada - Live at the Barbican