Meg Baird could have been good, but I didn't quite hear her over the crowd's mutterings. Don't know what they were talking about particularly, this crowd, possibly how much they liked Meg Baird. Now that would have been ironic, wouldn't it? Would it? Is that what irony means? I still don't know.
Peggy Sue were on next, and managed to get the crowd to hush up and cheer instead of talking. They're a very talented three piece (featured above with a two girl string section to confuse and confuddle you) with two girls up front called Katy and Rosa who look like they should run a vintage clothing shop but who really know how to play, and swapped instruments and stage positions to holler and harmonise down those mics and enchant the hell out of us all. They were tops, very good indeed, in fact just as good as their very good album would suggest. Goody good good.
Then it was the turn of sisters Johanna and Klara Soderberg, two Swedish songstresses not yet out of their twenties who go by the name First Aid Kit, to hit us with an equally beautiful and vocally impressive performance, floating hauntingly about the stage singing songs about pirates and kings, love and loss, with a great maturity for ones so young. But then that is not uncommon nowadays is it, for children not long off the teet to be writing songs like Leonard Cohen or Joni Mitchell. It's just the way it is.
So despite a shorter than expected set, due in part to some badly judged crowd participation, they lit up the room and left everyone to drift off into the Islington night. Stadium filling stuff this is not, but perfect for a woodland tent somewhere or a candelit church hall. In fact if they ever played on a boat, in the dark, I'd be there in a flash, ginger nuts in hand (they're good for sea-sickness apparently).
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