It’s a tough gig opening up to about ten people with your quietly euphoric tunes, but that’s what Faex Optim is faced with at Sneaky’s tonight. He carefully layers in a vocal track here, ups the treble there – all while fighting an unnecessary amount of smoke – and suddenly the unassuming song is hitting all the right receptors. And if one track sounds like a remix of the ‘Windowlicker’ breakdown? All the better.

ur.frnd are a different prospect altogether; a sort of post-modern singer-songwriter duo? Jam band Dijon? They’re a slippery pair – just reunited after main man Jules-Franck moved away – who are as apt to deliver a French ballad with a drum machine as a scratchy double guitar instrumental. It’s a change in tone that doesn’t quite hit the mark (and involves a lot of tuning), but there’s enough variety and experimental verve to keep it interesting.

Jennifer Walton’s brilliant debut album, Daughters, was released less than two months ago, but she’s already had a storied career as a live member of Kero Kero Bonito, a DJ, a soundtrack composer and recently as a collaborator with the equally inscrutable (and brilliant) caroline. But it’s only now that she’s stepping into the limelight, so to speak.

Tonight’s set is a reasonably faithful replaying of Daughters, though Walton brings an intense yet oddly comfortable presence to the Sneaky’s stage, which looks surprisingly big with only a guitar, a mic and a laptop on a chair at the back of it. Oh, and pedals. Lots of pedals. One listen to Daughters and you’ll be overwhelmed by the maximalist sound achieved by just one person. Tonight it’s done through a combination of guitar, backing tracks and pedals. Early on there’s a focus on the intricacy and delicacy of these compositions, but after about 20 minutes the guitar is put down and the mic comes off stand (as well as Walton’s boots).

‘Miss America’ is the first thunderous song which sees her prowl around the stage, at first tentatively but she soon makes the space her own, a writing, magnetic presence drawing out stark contemplations of grief amidst unconventional arrangements. The lyrics come in snatches like the writing of Lucy Ellman, but the message is loud and clear. Later, she joins the enraptured crowd on the floor during the climactic moment of the show, ‘It Eats Itself’, where Walton is at her menacing best, lost to the incomprehensible dread and white-hot rage that losing a loved one can bring on.

Despite these intense songs, Walton is candid and chatty throughout, clearly enjoying her time onstage, able to utilise the real emotions that fuel her music, but not to let them overwhelm completely. It’s an impressive and self-assured performance and there’s no doubt that her skills as a solo artist are every bit the match, and then some, of her collaborative endeavours.