Manu Chao might be pocket-sized, but he knows how to fill a space. Flanked by long-time five-piece, Radio Bemba Sound System - all bare chests, squealing guitars and bobbing basslines - the Franco-Spanish troubadour loomed large through the intensity of his songs and strength of his convictions.

Having attained near mythic status across the anti-Imperialist, anti-global world, Chao wielded his guitar like a weapon, firing power chords at a crowd as multicultural as his music. He has always cherry-picked from a wealth of musical traditions, sung lyrics of love, life and agit-prop in languages ranging from Spanish to English to Arabic. And while his current album, La Radiolina, tends to stick to one style per track, on stage he and his band threw whatever they felt like into songs that morphed from one to another and back.

Merengue, samba and conga vied with the wig outs of lead guitarist Madjid, whose acoustic flamenco flourishes brought brief, beautiful respite from the ongoing wall of noise.

Reggae and ska chugged alongside rock riffs and kooky trademark sound effects. Phrases were repeated, ideas returned to. Chao pumped his fist, thumped his heart, bigged up peace, tolerance, unity.