Rox @ Dingwalls, London

The UK music scene seemed to fall in love not so long ago with females, fighting for airtime with big 50s-esque voices and falling out of tabloids like April showers. But now seems the time for something… well… semi-different.

Soul seeping from her eyes to her slung shoulder movements, like the early Lauryn Hill comes Rox, with an inherent sincerity to her trapped lovers’ lyrics in ‘My Baby Left Me’. Backed by two powerhouse-lunged vocalists, she holds her own and flits across verses like a lighter throated Winehouse. Encouraging us to get involved in the clapping she is fearless.

This – her first proper headline show – is sold out and, at 21, she’s keen to make an impressive mark while remaining grounded. Nowhere is this more apparent than when she asks everyone to sing to her auntie Ventrice, who is somewhere in the crowd enjoying her 50th.

‘Hidden Force’ starts off with a high-pitched call, the kind Kate Bush can summon from the air, but in this case plucked out and smoothed into a distinctive Womack line of heartbreak. It’s the kind of healing music that suits its simple, plaintive backing of bass, keys and slow jammed drumming but struggles to completely revere the audience.

It’s all going beautifully, until the mid-point brings a dangerously slowing instrumental interlude – a jazzy extension of her opening track – threatening to wallow after the weepiest track yet, ‘Precious Moments’… a ballad, perhaps unsurprisingly, about a lover.

Fortunately we’re pulled back from the brink with a weighty, piano-led cover of Seal’s ‘Crazy’. It’s a bit of a divider; the kind found in High Fidelity, where some will undoubtedly find the high-octane vocals overwhelming, while others shield their eyes. It may not be to everyone’s taste, but with years ahead to grapple with grittier emotion, this feels like just the beginning.