Perfume Genius @ Hoxton Hall, London

It is so quiet in this gig, I can hear the chafing of Mike Hadreas’ lips as they meet each other. So quiet in fact, that the loudest noise to invade the set is the sound of an SLR shutter capturing the young Seattle singer: and it is just that, an invasion of the privacy that seems exposed in Perfume Genius’ music.

Despite the unnerving silence given to this performance, cloaked in a constant stream of dry ice, the place is filled, with one punter telling us afterwards he’d paid £50 for his ticket. Such is the beguiling nature of the singer, with his keyboard at a slight angle to face a fellow backing vocalist on keys across the stage, that we’ve all become temporarily mute for the song’s durations, interspersed with wild applause.

The intimate nature of songs taken from his debut 'Learning', is exacerbated by the presence of his accompanist, who shares the same set of keys for the title track and has the added effect of a tense creaking chair as the pair harmonise. The remainder of the set is given a cool undercurrent of synthesised flute and subtle vocals that seem to match Hadreas’ haunting, wind removed from sails version of a Sufjan-Stevens voice.

A definite mixture of honesty and discomfort is ingrained in the lyrics – particularly the startling ‘Mr Petersen’, which also illuminates themes of homosexuality, suicide and love to much gravitas despite the brevity of its duration. Nerves seem to be teeming on his fingers as he plays, but his voice is true to the record, in so much that he sweetly intonates “remember” on ‘Perry’ and lets the full, occasionally clumsy keys of ‘You Won’t B Here’ flow in a slight dislocation to their voices.

Given the beauty of the songs and his genuinely affecting style of performance, it seems a shame to think that popularity might mean a night of absolute reverence in such small surrounds like this becomes a one-off.