She dresses in her guitar, and launches into it, and she is mesmerizing. Two songs in and she swaps places with her bandmate on the keys David Hunt, swapping him a synth for a turn at the black grand piano taking up most of the stage. Their music is fierce intensity and no one is immune. Between songs, she cracks self-deprecating jokes, apologises for being Australian, at one point, shrugs off her kimono in an overly dramatic gesture; all moments intended to bring some light-hearted fun into the otherwise heart-wrenching odes to bad break-ups, a forgetful God and the inevitability of human nature. Some of the audience sit transfixed, others sprawl back in their seats, eyes-closed, the couple next to me clutch each other tightly as if facing their imminent demise. Time turns to mud.