Appearances can be deceptive. And in our image-obsessed age it’s great to hear someone like Linnea Johnson, who looks a cherubic Swedish folk-singer, but has a voice like heavily polished mahogany. Coming off somewhere between Liz Frazer and Alison Moyet, her deep, honeyed and slightly woozy vocals add a syrupy coating to a set of catchy as hell, unrepentantly swoonsome and resolutely lo-fi, sub-Pulp, post-Supremes indie rattles.

Such is Johnson’s talent however, that there are times when the music just disappears into the distance as her voice dominates centre stage. That’s no rum deal, as Johnsson – like Beth Ditto in The Gossip – is more than enough to carry the band through any weak spots.

Wichita