KODO, which can simply mean "children of the drum" in Japanese, is a 14-strong troupe of percussionists who like to tour the globe promoting peace and harmony through the medium of making a massive, dramatic noise.

They perform mostly with a variety of different sized taiko, a traditional Japanese drum, occasionally including a haunting bamboo flute and once featuring the kokyu, a type of violin. Each half of the show starts with a bit of clowning around to get the audience clapping – a bit panto, but endearing all the same.

The first part of the show dealt with the idea of “Spirit”, and the second, “Dance”.

But, after a rousing start, the first half proved a bit too delicate for the crowd, whose amplified coughing fits bounced off the walls of the Phil and continually ruined the ambience.

When Kodo go quiet, they go really, ridiculously, pin-drop quiet. We’re talking the slightest, gentlest taps of the drum that can barely be registered by the ear, or a sweet female vocal accompanied by a single flute. And they should be beautifully evocative moments – but were endlessly ruined by en masse snorting and sneezing. I expected the same misery in the second half, but fortunately for the most part it was loud enough to silence the snifflers.

Because when Kodo go loud, they go so loud they could give you tinnitus for a week. The highlight of the show, aside from the delightful finale, was when a female dancer with the head of a dragon was paraded round on the shoulders of a male member of the company.

There was more than one standing ovation for their troubles as the crowd (clearly with its own contingent of drummers) whooped as if Kodo were rock stars. In many respects, the Phil was the perfect venue for a subtle, simplistic, yet powerful show of this kind.