This is Rokbun’s first time in the Berkeley Suite and there pretty much couldn’t be a better night for it.

Canadian solo electronic artist Claire Boucher, aka Grimes, has had hype constantly grow around since her emergence in 2010, which lead up to the brilliant Visions coming out earlier this year.

Tonight is the ideal opportunity to see her in action on a relatively small stage before she makes the step up to the Arches in August.

Support tonight comes from US duo Tonstartssbandht, who guile the already packed venue with melodic harmonies drenched in reverb creating a type of freak folk feel.

A switch from keys/guitar to drums/guitar sees the band set off, playing out a heavier elongated track that touches on the right side of noise pop and ends in climactic expressive vocals shouted without mic to a more than impressed crowd.

Tonight is sold out, and has been for a while, rightfully so, Boucher is a treat, her hyperactive charms and entrancing dance floor teasing music has been winning her fans by the thousand and she more than justifies this tonight.

Bobbing about around a plyth of electric equipment she is clearly excited by the music she makes and delivering it live, her constant requests for the sound to be turned up so she can really “get into it” only back this up further.

The Berkeley Suite isn’t particularly designed for everyone to see the stage, but you don’t really need to, the smoke filled room acting as a cavern for Boucher’s sound, if there only was a touch more room dancing would surely break loose.

There’s something mesmerisingly cool about Grimes as she spills disco enthused beauties, changing to euphoric beats all under some of the catchiest dream pop vocal hooks you’ll hear.

It’s enough to plaster a smile on anyone’s face, even new tracks don’t sound out of place as Boucher works with her new sample set up, cheat sheet and all, and makes it all look too good.

Her enthusiasm is engaging and by the end of the set she seems to have got a touch carried away as she has to apologise for running out of tracks she’s able to create to her satisfaction, a perfectionist too.

She can be instantly forgiven though as the set is more than impressive and as she starts to spin a few tracks before leaving the stage those who can’t see could be forgiven for thinking she’s still up there Djing, I’m sure she would be if she were allowed.

Grimes is a gem, tonight is more than proof of her talent and her enthusiasm for what she does is constantly evident, make sure you catch her at The Arches cos the course she’s on she’s only going to get bigger.

Words: Iain Dawson
Photos: Angela Canavan

Future Islands are undoubtedly one of those bands that will divide opinion, but they are most definitely one of the most theatrical and startling bands you’ll see live, if you like this band once you’ve seen them, live you’ll love them.

Tonight sees the Baltimore based trio on their third visit to Glasgow and the Captains Rest basement is rammed with a crowd anticipating one of best shows of the year so far.

First up in the no small matter of support and we’re not let down with Glasgow/London guitar/drums all female duo Scared Paws who delight the already healthy crowd with funky, angular punk tinged pop.

It’s fun high octane stuff that gets the crowd nicely warmed up, you can easily see them go way beyond an opening slot at the Captains, the girls seems to be having the time of their life onstage as their guitarist dances without a care despite admitting to have munched a huge kebab just before.

Next up are Shropshire’s Way Through, another guitar/drums duo, who give a the show a new vibe as guitarist Christopher Tipton hits out with frantic vocals after the duo fill the room with noise, before bringing it a touch to add a more poppy feel to their indie punk sound.

Their chaotic sound, sporadic vocals and powerful heavy guitar are more than enough to keep a by now packed basement interested as they get ready for, no disrespect to the support, the highlight of the night.

Future Islands lash onto the stage and vocalist Samuel Herring is quick to make himself the focal point of the show with a “fuck” filled monologue that all but captures the audience before they launch into ‘Give Us The Wind‘.

Herring is certainly one of the most intense frontmen you will ever see, he completely takes over the show and has the basement transfixed on his every word and movement, whether that be manic grinning to full on slapping himself in the face.

His vocals at times have drawn comparisons to Tom Waits, but Herring is a completely different beast his vocal style changes from line to line, at times hitting a powerful baritone and then being seemingly possessed into a guttural snarl.

It’s certainly Herring’s vocals that will make or break someone’s interest in Future Islands, the music is hard to fault as keyboardist Gerrit Welmers and bassist William Cashion, who looks remarkably like Zach Galifianakis, switch from playful yet chilled electronica soundscapes to full on dance floor filling new wave.

But for people who love this band it is Herring that steals the show, he’s dramatic, engaging, amusing, and any other superlative you want to throw at him, he’s over the top in just the right way.

His stage banter is engaging too, whether it be confusing geography lessons, the north of the UK is like the south of the US, trying to draw similarities as they from the south, North Carolina, to him and Cashian, and then the crowd, sharing a bottle of Buckfast, he certainly knows how to stir up a Glasgow audience.

The set is scattered with tracks that sound great on record but this is where you want to be seeing them, it doesn’t really matter what songs these guys are playing Herring will make sure you are swept up in the show regardless.

The show ends on one of the band’s best tracks and probably the bands most recognisable, although possibly due to the remix featuring Beach House’s Victoria Legrand’s added vocals, ‘Little Dreamer‘ but everyone will take away a different highlight from this evening, it’s just brilliant, go see these guys next time you can.

Words: Iain Dawson
Photos: Gordon Ballantyne

There’s something ever so soothing about Cass McCombs, even as he soft spokenly asks for the lights turned down before the band start up with ‘Buried Alive’.

McCombs smooth vocals combined with the settling music is the ideal thing to relax to, speaking with the promoter before the show he felt this should have been switched with the sold out New Build show at the Captains, however cramming a crowd in to watch this creates a unyielding congestion that would almost certainly knock the balance and limit the enjoyment of the show.

After finishing the first track McCombs softly suggests the crowd come forward, they do, then he again asks for the lights to come down, they do, it appears the instantly likeable singer-songwriter has everyone in the palm of his hands.

‘Prima Donna’ carries more of the gentle vibe with the band complimenting McCombs beautifully in the mix, as the lyrics and delivery take the front seat and everyone latches onto each and every pronunciation.

It’s no wonder John Peel described McCombs as “unobtrusively brilliant” as he performs ‘The Lonely Doll’ from last year’s Wit’s End, a track Peel sadly wouldn’t have got to witness, it’s that instant comfort you get from seeing a performer like this as the music washes over a crowd in attentive silence before deserved applause.

‘Angel Blood’ sees a longer intro and a more powerful rhythm section before McCombs takes over, breaking that calm exterior as he almost shouts the odd lyrics, still he doesn’t loose control, or his audience, it’s just another string to his bow as ‘My Sister My Spouse’ brings to back to soothing beautiful vocal melodies.

Just when you think the set might lack variety the powerful bass of ‘Love Thine Enemy’ takes over and for the first time you actually feel the bass, but McCombs cool comfortable delivery is still an ever present, although the track does end in a surprising request to turn up the vocals.

‘Joe Murder’ continues in this louder vain as McCombs gives way to slightly more expansive tracks.

Another request to make it a little darker produces a little giggle before the lights go down and the set goes on with ‘Don’t Vote’.

As McCombs announces the last song the same overwhelming respectful silence fills the room as was there was when the set started as the he “woah woah woah woah” and sways his way through arguably his most popular song ‘County Line’.

He finishes off my introducing his band before going on to finish the song with a touch self-indulgent instrumental finish, but you can’t that against the guy.

Words: Iain Dawson
Photos: Debbie McCuish

It’s miserable tonight in Glasgow and there’s a good few top touring acts are in town, but none of these things have stopped people from packing out Stereo to see possibly the most excited guys to be in Glasgow this evening The War On Drugs.

The four-piece Philadelphia act wash over the crowd like a cool breeze, the label ‘indie rock’ which has been placed onto them couldn’t really be more misleading, despite it being in some ways accurate.

Surf enthused indie splashed with vocalist Adam Granduciel’s distinctive croak, drawing the odd similarity with Dylan, all drenched in glorious feedback move to driving classic 80s American indie basslines and a tendency to flicker into impressive guitar spasms, giving another cheeky nod to the surf, before hitting you with some dreamy soundscapes, it can’t be said these guys aren’t versatile.

Granduciel’s vocals aren’t all delivered in that Dylanesque croak, atop the more expansive tracks his voice drops creating a smooth calming effect only interrupted by stuttering guitar squeals which pull you away just enough when the beautiful lo-fi indie rock threatens to engulf you.

The War On Drugs have a way of sending their audience into a trance, the mind wanders elsewhere, but don’t think this is disconnected with the music, as soon as the songs ends you are pulled away instantly to the next tracks cutting harmonica beginning.

Broken, at times ineligible speech comes from the stage as Granduciel’s tendency to mutter suggests he should stick with the performing, comments about meeting The Waterboys, “they’re from here, I think”, are met by silence; clearly he means Scotland but the possibility of confusing Glasgow with Edinburgh, or maybe a lack of enthusism for The Waterboys, who knows?

Still more dreamy lo-fi grooves take minds off that, maybe everyone is lost due to the heat in the room, it certainly does me no favours, between tracks chat of “what’s happening in Scotland these days?” is met by confusion, but the mention of a trip to Sleazy’s sparks a reaction, and the description of Buckfast as “that thing with mulled wine” tickles the audience some what.

Unfortunately tonight in is uncomfortable in its glory, this is in no way the fault of the band who deliver an encapsulated musical display, but sadly the miserable weather combined with the heat in the room and that typical Sunday night feeling combine to leave something amiss.

Still, I would definitely recommend seeing these guys again, maybe in a less congested and warm atmosphere, or maybe it’s just that I’m pretty ill.

Words: Iain Dawson
Photos: Ka Man Hung

As the crowd begins to form in The Captains sweaty basement, it appears that the gig has been somewhat undersold, however, Any Color Black are used to small venues and they appear confident on stage.

The duo blaze through pulsing tracks such as ‘Hot’ and ‘Touch Me’ pushing their danceable sound with the command of well versed musicians.

Aside from this ability, it is the powerfully brooding atmosphere that they create that makes them such an exciting, yet underrated, live band.

The crowd is slightly more established by the time We Have Band take stage but it is still nowhere near capacity.

The underwhelming turn out doesn’t seem to bother the London based four piece, who have embarked upon the tour to promote their edgy new album Ternion.

The gig starts with percussion man Darren lauding Glasgow’s gig goers before rolling into the subdued funk of ‘Honeytrap’ accompanied by Dede’s serpentine dancing which is strangely hypnotic.

From this opening track it’s clear that WHB are passionate about their music as they attack their vast range of instruments with a maniacal frenzy, making full use of their new live drummer.

It is this punky energy that drives Ternion, and as the band re-crafts the album’s percussion heavy sound on tracks such as the thrashy ‘Visionary’ and ‘Watertight’ the crowd fizzes excitedly.

Although the gig is intended to primarily promote their new material, the band have carefully punctuated their set with perfect renditions of debut album favourites.

Tracks such ‘Love, What You Doing?’, ‘Divisive’ and ‘You Came Out’ keep the fans happy as Dede and Darren swap beats, synths and vocals while Thomas riffs behind them.

Finally, after a melodic rendition of ‘Where Are Your People?’ the band file off stage through the tangle of cables while the crowd pleas with them to stay for just one more song.

Of course, as with every other gig, they return in a few minutes to launch into what is probably their best single; ‘Oh!’, the track is an ultra crowd pleaser, setting the audience alight and inviting everyone to sing along.

One girl, who informs every one that it’s her birthday, is invited on stage to dance showing that WHB are a simply about having a good time.

As the closing notes ring out, it remains somewhat of a mystery as to why they aren’t massive.

It is fan focused gigs like this that help restore faith in good, genuine music.

Words: Catriona Reilly
Photos: Stewart Fullerton

For two acoustic guitarists who started their musical career in a thrash metal band, it is no surprise then that Mexican duo Rodrigo Y Gabriela (real names Rodrigo Sanchez and Gabriela Quintero) incorporate a blend of Latin folk, rhythmic rock and flamenco-styled melodies at breakneck speed into their unique genre.

On the second show of their current tour, Rod and Gab are preceded by Ryan Sheridan, a Monaghan acoustic guitar rocker who used to ply his trade on the streets of Dublin, but has quickly grown in stature with album The Day You Live Forever.

Sheridan has no problem warming up the Glasgow crowd with tracks like ‘Jigsaw’ and his stompy cover of ‘Seven Nation Army‘.

Rodrigo y Gabriela finally appear, backed with members of The C.U.B.A- a suitably named Cuban band- with whom they recorded their latest offering, Area 52.

Released at the start of the year, the Spanish speaking pair gave a Cuban-styled twist to nine previous tunes, recorded on the Caribbean island itself (”an amazing place” comments Gabriela in her thick Mexican accent).

Their catchy guitar melodies-that they have become so synonymous for- during the opening few songs are sadly engulfed by the powerful trumpet and saxophone.

However, that would be the only fly in the ointment in what turned out to medicinal music for the soul.

With The C.U.B.A behind them- drums, brass section, bass and keys- Rod and Gab rattle through song after song with boundless energy, Quintero- dawned with long pink tie- bounces between feet like she was taking part in some guitar work-out programme and Sanchez often stands wide-legged, not dissimilar to the stance of an 80’s rock icon.

Certainly Rod proves to be more of the showman compared to his counterpart, humorously breaking off at times into famous guitar riffs such as ‘Sweet Child of Mine’ and ‘Superstition’ by Stevie Wonder.

Both show their depth of talent when performing solo, Gabriela- who typically plays more of a rhythmic style- uses the wah-wah effect effortlessly along with her drumming technique to create a modern Hendrix-type sound, verging on Shooglenifty’s celtic-rock genre.

Meanwhile Rodrigo even had the time to plonk himself down in front of a pedal steel guitar midway through the show and end the evening with a black electric guitar (sacrilege in some fans eyes) to highlight his all round excellent ability with the stringed instrument.

The show is not complete without a mixture of some crowd-participation before ‘Tamacun‘ (probably the best song of the night) and drum, bass and piano solos from the equally talented The C.U.B.A.

It had been two long years since Rodrigo Y Gabriela had played here last, and after performances to the standard of this one, fans will eagerly await their return.

Words: Ben Bookless
Photos: Allan Reid

New Jersey self-proclaimed “Beach Combers” Real Estate are one of the most understated, but highly impressive acts to come out of the jangly beach boys-inflected “hipster” indie scene.

On the course of their two albums and two EPs they have churned out a consistent rate of excellent songs that proficiently succeed at crafting a unique and refreshing sound.

Clearly the band are being increasingly recognised as such, as tonight’s almost-full Arches seems worlds apart from a over-packed Captains Rest two years ago, where they were heard more than seen, but the set is just as effective.

Tonight sees the band on fine form, as they seem to overcome the occasional sound issues that this unique-but-occasionally-flawed venue throws up, performing a well-balanced combination of new jams from last years excellent ‘Days’ and highlights from the excellent self-titled debut that we all fell in love with in the first place.

The big difference between the two records is the sound production, which is reflected tonight; gone is the DIY-tinged ragged guitar tones in favour of a cleaner, reverbed sound which works perfectly in the tunneled venue.

Half the crowd appear to be of a casual newcomer nature, which takes some winning over from the band.

But once such bangers as ‘It’s Real’, ‘Municipality’ and ‘All the Same’ are stormed through, the audience are appropriately enamoured with the band.

They treat us with older fan favourites ‘Fake Blues’ and closing on the excellent ‘Snow Days’ (though ‘Suburban Beverage’ was missed) leaving the stage with rapturous plaudits in attendance.

Words: Adam Turner-Heffer

Tonight’s gig is a bit of an odd one, two touring bands who as of yet have not really collected an audience outside of their locale, or at least they haven’t in Glasgow, and a local support who was only booked that afternoon.

So, all in all it’s a pretty shambolic affair, perhaps fitting them that Shambles Miller should kick things off as the acoustic singer-songwriter charms and amuses the ‘crowd’ (we’re lucky if they gets over 15 people at any point in the night) in equal measure.

Shambles doesn’t seem too phased by the lack of turn out as he jokes about playing to smaller audiences before handing round his one flyer.

He exchanges chat with tonight’s headliners from the stage about a Frank Turner cover, spins out his own tracks before borrowing some words from Jay-Z to tie things off.

Next up are the ever so Welsh Masters In France, who produce an interesting indie rock set which creates a certain intrigue among the gathered audience.

It seems these guys are destined for bigger things, it’s a shame tonight doesn’t really pick up, their small entourage seem to enjoy the set though as they dance without a care of the dozen or so skeptical punters.

Another band that are destined for bigger things than tonight are Outfit, we’re told that they’re a pretty impressive live prospect but it’s hard to live up to that in a dead room.

That’s not to say Outfit aren’t captivating, they are, the Liverpool five piece produce chilling music that washes over the venue with a little cowbell addiction to boot.

Still, the quirky music doesn’t lift the mood of the audience, or maybe there’s too much tension in the room, being only one dancing, being the centre of attention is quite daunting, and the two girls with Masters In France have long gone.

It’s a shame through there’s a great promise with these guys, I certainly hope this doesn’t put them off Glasgow and they make a return when they have built a bigger reputation or return when there are people to actually win over.

Words: Iain Dawson

The fairly meteoric rise of Pulled Apart By Horses has been an encouraging if slightly surprising one.

It’s always been reasonably hard to pin down what exactly is the Leeds quartet’s sound really, which is to their credit, but also somewhat strange.

Given the proud ‘Sold Out’ banner that greets punters on the way in to Tut’s tonight however, clearly whatever it is they are doing, they are doing extremely well.

There is a fairly consistent garage rock sound throughout Pulled Apart by Horses’ material, giving a healthy dollop of post-hardcore and even indie rock to establish a fairly distinctive sound, they stay intriguing and fresh.

The jury is still out as to how successful this combination really is, but one cannot fault their performance one iota tonight.

Kicking off a two week tour, the band rip through their now relatively extensive set with a real, undoubtable vigour that carries them pleasantly through and transmits happily to the ever appreciative crowd.

Lead vocalist Thomas Hudsons gleefully screeches his way through song after song while the rest (including a drummer who looks like Lol’s evil stepdad from ‘This is England’) confidently pound away at their respective instruments to excellent effect.

Highlights include a rip-roaring version of fan favourite ‘Moonlit Talons’ and new single ‘V.E.N.O.M’.

All in all a very convincing performance from the ever growing Leeds quartet.

Words: Adam Turner-Heffer
Photos: Ka Man Hung

Self-proclaimed ‘experimental pop’ outfit Kill The Waves open with a very pleasing glitch beat which is accompanied by a subtly wailing guitar line, creating an immediate wash of ambience across the room.

As Tim Kwant’s vocals enter the beautifully complex equation, there are no doubts that this band are here to play beautiful music.

“Another thought floats by and by your dream, the world into the sky, the pages burn under the sun, another word that wont be sung” - the first utterings ‘The One That Could Have Been’ is a beautifully understated poetic gem of a line which instantly evokes a feeling of nostalgic loss for a daydream nation.

The band continue to weave layers and loops on top of each other with the ease of a band that have been playing for many years but still maintaining a naive fragility that is echoed through Kwant’s passionate words.

The band end their set to applause that should have been far more enthusiastic and deafening, this is a band who have played with the likes of Pantha Du Prince, Glasser and High Places recently, and it will come as no surprise if they are mentioned in the same breath as these artists in the next few years.

As tonight’s headliner Blouse arrive on stage the crowd seem surprisingly unenthusiastic, with sparse applause and minimal cheering for one of America’s finest dream pop bands (and of that there are many).

Lead singer Charlie Hilton announces that she is “excited to be playing in Glas-gow” which is met with some giggling from the band over the misguided pronunciation.

After an awkward exchange with the crowd, they burst out with their sound, opening with the haunting ‘They Always Fly Away’ which includes a bossy bass line which is contrasted with Hilton’s alluringly vacant and detached sounding vocals - reminiscent of Nico, albeit with a less Germanic intonation.

Their sound is so startling pleasant as they play their shimmery dreamy brand of shoe-gaze, creating a strange hypnotic atmosphere, with a feeling that we are being transported back in time to an eighties loner’s disco - glitter abound.

This music is by no means diverse, Blouse stick to a sound which they are comfortable with and it is certainly something that works for them, never have I seen dreamy soundscapes performed with such effortless beauty.

They end their set with two of their stronger tracks ‘Into Black’ with its infectious groove and sway inducing melody and the much blogged about ‘Videotapes’ - an unashamed pastiche of underground eighties pop.

These two tracks alone should have been enough to make the crowd show some serious emotion, or at the very least some awkward semi-drunken dance flicks, but no, the crowd remained tough, showing very little emotion and not nearly enough appreciation.

This, the only thing that could have put a negative spin on an otherwise flawless live performance from Blouse.

Spread the word good people and sway to Blouse, they really do deserve it.

Words: Alan Laidlaw
Photo: Amanda Smith

IDM - Intelligent Dance Music - is a term that raises my eyebrows and sticks in my throat.

Apologies, but dance music is surely the genre designed to distance oneself from thinking? Less head, more feet, less brain, more heart.

Yet, after a brilliant night out at Chambre 69’s showcase of the acts on Modeselektor’s ‘50 Weapons’ record label and an interesting discussion with Anstam and Phon.o, I can safely say it’s possible and important to take dance music seriously (while shakin’ the booty, of course).

For Anstam and Phon.o, America is the epitome of lazy music right now, “America is about excess,” explains Anstam.

“If you’re an artist in Europe you value that you’re an artist; you research things, you experiment.

“Growing up, great music didn’t come from the radio, the TV or any sort of chart… it was in our city, it was in Berlin.”

He passionately describes music as a holistic process, more than just one moment of listening and dancing.

He advocates the attitude that actively acquiring music is a rewarding journey of self-discovery and ultimately, trust: trust in your local record store, trust in your favourite club and trust in your own taste.

“Today there is so much music out there that people don’t try to find what they like, they don’t connect.”

Phon.o shares a similar disdain for the stateside scene: “The only place I don’t like to play is America, it’s a super shitty scene, there is a commercial ethic which I don’t like.”

Much of the venom is directed towards dubstep - interesting as Radio One fervently promotes it as the sound of 2012 (as they have done for the last couple of years).

“Acts like Skrillex… really terrible stuff,” Phon.o shakes his head “Skrillex is just a synonym for a whole scene of crappy, plastic dubstep.”

As the pair despair of music made for money, I consider my earlier perception of tonight’s gig.

Post-dub-tech-electronic-IDM was what I was in for, apparently, I had winced at that, it sounds so self-conscious, anything ‘post’ is pretentious I’d thought.

But it works; I’m surprised throughout - where I had anticipated a lot of repetitive, fashionable ‘bleeps’ instead I was dancing as if it was to old-school r’n'b or dancehall.

And I’m glad I’m listening to DJs who have spent hours raking through record shops, who have been inspired by every party they’ve been to and have an opinion about their scene.

It’s not self-conscious after all, it’s self-aware and rightly so because it sounds and feels great.

If you can’t afford to pop to Berlin every other weekend, the pair recommends www.boomkat.com to source good quality music.

Words: Leonie Colmar

“I’m so nervous, I’ve been watching from side stage all night and you’re all… so… quiet.”

That. Is. A. First. The city of Glasgow - a gig in the city of Glasgow - with guitars and everything and the crowd are being described as intimidatingly “quiet”?

But stop a second, before you shed a tear and stash away your ‘one more tune’ sign.

Take solace in the fact that no matter how good the artist or how insane your nationality, when in a library there is an overwhelming obligation to silence.

The cast of River City could be crooning ‘Flower of Scotland’ and even Alex Salmond would whisper “hussshh.”

The clarity of Rae Morris‘ voice is striking as she, 19 years old and alone onstage with her keyboard, plays the gorgeous “Walls”.

Her voice is strong without the exaggerated vibrato heard in most modern, popular singers; Blackpool’s very own Regina Spektor.

Matt Hegarty (of Matthew and the Atlas) is on next and without introduction he begins to sing, the noise is as if from the belly of a whale.

Cavernous notes that fill the room, rounded and open; off-set by moments of admirable soprano, at first, the vocal acrobatics are thrilling but it does become repetitive and it’s dull by the end of the set.

Bear’s Den - ex member of Cherbourg, playing without his band tonight - has a warm, conversational tone to his voice; low but not gruff.

He borrows heavily on Cherbourg’s back catalogue, songs with jaunty folk spur, typical of English nu-folk acts like Mumford and Sons, along with Fleet Foxes style oohs and aahs.

A favourite is ‘Never Love Again’ with its arresting opening line “you kissed my neck and you left the room/you probably had someone better to do”.

From his own collection is the gripping ‘Pompeii’, as he sings it feels as though he is by your side, in a local pub, telling you about a loss he has never told anyone before.

Last - but not least - is a cover of Wyclef Jean’s ‘Gone Til November’, for some super catchy comic relief.

Headlining the night is Daughter, whose song ‘Youth’ can be heard across Channel 4 and E4 right now as the soundtrack to posh kids handling each other and their troubled emotions in Morocco (Skins).

The boyfriend and girlfriend duo seem twee with jumpers, bowlcuts and oh-so-shy stage presence, musically, in the scheme of boy/girl duos, they draw a surprising line between the sweet submission of Slow Club and the dramatic dominance of The Kills.

They are the only act to play an electric guitar tonight, which is played with a subtle style, designed to perfectly accent the band’s lyrical melancholy.

‘Landfill’, introduced as “a song about how to kill me,” is harrowing and beautiful and will be my first listen when I get home.

So… it’s more than the Mitchell that is rendering us mute, Communion, the record label of ex-Cherbourg’s Kevin Jones and Mumford & Sons’ Ben Lovett, is showcasing the kind of voices that stun and soothe.

My only complaint (perhaps of the current folk scene) is that sometimes it gets same-y, lyrics can revert to forced poetry: hearts and minds, the sky and the ocean, colliding stars and brittle bones.

However, those repetitive moments are so rare, as rare as finding genuinely great new music like Rae Morris, Bear’s Den and Daughter.

Words: Leonie Colmar