An orange-haired tinker in a baseball cap covered in objects representing elemental gods points to his marijuana-themed socks and yells “I am LSD!” into a feathered microphone. Welcome to the fried mind of Lee “Scratch” Perry, Jamaican godfather of dub, reggae originator, “supreme creator” and “sexpert”, who has claimed he lives in a studio spaceship receiving music from his fellow aliens, and visits earth to collect “only the good brains”.

According to his own absorbing self-mythology, this prolific legend – with more than 60 albums to his name – can read minds, once put a curse on the BBC for not playing his records and was turned into Superman by Haitian zombie drugs. He’s the kind of cosmic one-off that naturally draws disciples – everyone from the Beastie Boys to Andrew WK, Animal Collective and Keith Richards has tried to glean some of his mystic dub magic, and this pre-80th birthday midnight set is mixed by long-time collaborator the Mad Professor.

It certainly needs guidance. Each hazy beach-dub track is a canvas over which Perry mumbles to himself of Jah-ly matters, freestyles blessings on to the front row, orders champagne and repeatedly shouts “Ping pong!” or “Crash!” at his grizzled band, as if he wants to improvise a number about a table tennis meteorite disaster. Looking less like an intergalactic dub deity and more like an eccentric riverboat trinket collector who enjoyed the 60s too much, he appears to get mildly toasted during a rambling take on Chase the Devil, shakes robotically at a young woman who invades the stage to dance to a falsetto-free Police and Thieves and interrupts songs to chastise people checking their phones in the wings. Perry talks of his music like elemental catastrophes – hurricanes, tidal waves and fire from on high – but tonight’s improvisational one-tone sprawl is unlikely to upheave anyone, unless it’s to the nearest late-night Costcutter for Quavers.

• At Band on the Wall, Manchester, 15 March. Box office: 0161-832 1111. Then touring.