Live Review: Willow Beats, Saatsuma, Emma Ovendon

Our evening starts with a Welcome To Country featuring a didgeridoo player, "Always was, always will be Aboriginal land," serving as a prescient reminder to the chatty punters.

Emma Ovenden is first up tonight and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine a Fall Boys Creek Choir-era James Blake sitting at the keys instead. Her single Press Release For The Depressed is a key example, using the same crescendo and decrescendo chords and progressions that the aforementioned London musician used over seven years ago. Her set doesn't grasp above a low rumble of sounds and partly decipherable vocals, favouring texture and mood over dynamics and definitive form. An Antarctic-level sonic chill washes over the crowd who remain seated for the whole set.

Saatsuma vocalist Memphis LK looks like a late-'90s Gwen Stefani. Isolate off their 2017 LP Overflow is the third track and it's a nifty summation of their aesthetic - sparse beats and soft, sickly sweet vocals. We let the aquatic mood wash over us. Hand-picked by the headliner as choice of support for their whole national tour, they seem to have developed a warm camaraderie. The syrupy tone welcomingly kicks up a few gears around song eight, people down front start to dance and, by the time the wormhole of a last song recedes, we're warmed up.

Uncle-niece musical duo Willow Beats set up behind closed curtains to hide the visual feast in store. Watching the lighting tech run the show from the sound desk, the organic, symbiotic feel of the visuals and lighting echoes the natural beauty of their wistful songs. Be Kind To Yourself is the second track in and it's full of as much wonder and ruminative beauty as the accompanying music video. Vocalist Kalyani Mumtaz takes the set down at points, singing solo, jazz-flecked odes accompanied by keys. Mostly this works, but sometimes audience attention wavers. A long, whispered warning about global warming mid-set remind us that we are all tied to this increasingly dramatic narrative of spiralling weather events and climate refugees. Solace Solitary runs through without a hitch, Mumtaz trading whispered vocals with her uncle Narayana Johnson. By set's end, the elated Special, which has definite syncing potential, blasts through the speakers, ensuring the receptive crowd leave feeling vibrant and fuzzy.