THERE was a stronger-than-usual whiff of the liberal left in the air at Saturday night's hynopsis-fest at Eden, writes Matt Dixon.

Massive Attack, the purveyors of 1990s trip hop who have latterly become explicitly political, were in fabulous form during their 90-minute set among the biomes of mid-Cornwall.

For those of us who grew up with ideal accompaniments to late night fuzziness such as Karmacoma and Risingson, it was a trip down memory lane, but one in which you uneasily looked over your shoulder every so often.

The insistence of the primeval bass was the closest thing I could imagine to being in the womb (apparently the noise of washing machines help babies nod off, I also learned this weekend).

But that warmth and security was shattered by some stark messages poking the political right wing in the eye with a very pointy finger.

The images behind the band were urgent, sometimes angry and occasionally amusing. They're not quite at Billy Bragg's level just yet, but they're getting there.

Massive Attack are a perfect fit for Eden - it brought to mind atmospheric epics such as Sigur Ros and Spritualized from years gone by - but much of the crowd seemed oddly disengaged.

Perhaps the hardcore fans had seen them the previous night, leaving the more casual observers to chatter through the second night.

That said, two gloriously dressed women next to me danced, swirled and shut their make-up clad eyes for the entirety of the gig. Almost as though they were in a washing machine all of their own.

Our collective conscience was pricked by images of refugees and our disdain was encouraged by reading fatuous quotes from left wing antitheses such as Donald Trump and Nigel Farage.

Deborah Miller's joyous vocals took Safe From Harm to new heights after incredible, almost tribal versions of my two favourite Mezzanine tracks Angel and Inertia Creeps, while Unfinished Sympathy was held back for a stunning encore.

I have met one half of Massive Attack - Rob del Naja - on several occasions as he is a regular visitor to my local pub.

Often accompanied by his charming mum, he is an very humble chap. He also has an infectious energy that seems to underpin so many creative minds and he's happy to discuss almost anything over a beer.

He pitched up in the pub with around eight others on Sunday evening after the two-night tour of Cornwall and true to form, he was hugely appreciative of the support from the village.

Fame and fortune can leave artists dead and bloated, but Rob has remained unaffected and understated. He let's his imagination do the talking.