Skipping pixie-like around the stage, Laura J Martin is a curious mix of lilting folk and Japanese Noh theatrics. With Kung Fu film titles like Fire Horse and Careless Ninja, she has a shy geeky charm, whistling her flute and stomping her feet like she’s at marching band practice. Using loops and mandolin, she pulls of a surprisingly delightful cover of Chaka Demus and Plier’s Tease Me - making it sound like a cross between Björk and Kate Bush, she brings out a haunting side that makes it almost utterly unrecognisable.
The first jarring chords vibrate around the room and Scout (a.k.a. Emily) Niblett’s small figure doesn’t seem quite so fragile. In clothes two sizes too big and a high vis jacket, she snarls and thumps until she gets her way, spitting out acid barbs through Nevada. With the feistiness of a latter day PJ Harvey she grinds her guitar with unrelenting fury. Disarmingly sweet, she chats with the crowd before reverting to a fierce lioness in protest at a snide remark against drummer Dan Wilson. One of her better known songs Hot Too Death finally lulls the crowd into a hushed silence as the tension builds to a squalling rock ending. My Beloved slowly flickers into view like slow motion film as Scout lingers over every note; she stumbles towards the end, choking back some remembered hurt still too raw to bear. Following her every move, Dan wraps himself around his kit, leaning into every hit like a body blow for the appropriately named Drummer Boy, as Scout screeches until her lungs bleed. Powerful and sweet, fierce and tender, Scout Niblett is a mess of contradictions, and it’s these erratic tussles with the music and the crowd that keep us coming back for more.