Slow Club @ Diva’s, Swansea

The University is a building site, the dimly-lit venue under-populated (exam period), the summer weather has vanished leaving the air con arctic. Support comes from Summer Camp, who, with their name’s American high school connotations are just that. Part 60s surf rock, part 80s pop, they should tick my boxes, but instead sound like a band performing at their end of year talent show. What annoys me is not that Jeremy Warmsley shares vocal duties on this new venture, but that he bothers to share them with Elizabeth Sankey. Jeremy solo is a great folktonica outfit; think Divine Comedy meets Of Montreal. Perhaps he’ll get over the moment of madness and realise that he should ditch Elizabeth, and Elizabeth should ditch that 80s tie-dye jumpsuit and the I-wanna-be-Sophie-Ellis-Bextor attitude.

Slow Club save the night. Sheffield duo Rebecca Taylor and Charles Watson start playing their beautiful first song ‘Wild Blue Milk’ off stage in the middle of the modest crowd. Everyone hushes. They sing the entire song on the dance floor, two guitars, and sumptuous vocal harmonies. The nu-folksy duo is on the second date of their tour promoting their new Moshi Moshi single ‘Giving Up On Love.’ The set comprises a number of tracks from their debut album Yeah, So? – ‘Because We’re Dead’, 'It Doesn't Have To Be Beautiful', and 'I Was Unconscious…’ – as well as many great new songs, mostly about love.

Their sound veers from folk-punk to blues-pop with happy-go-lucky abandon. Someone wolf whistles. Rebecca flicks her long blonde hair out of her face and cheekily hollers: “Was that for Chaz or me? I’m so non-feminist, I love that.” She takes a gulp of white wine.

Rebecca made a bit of a cult name for herself playing unusual percussion at gigs – chair backs, bottles – but tonight she is sticking to a mini drum kit set-up, making a pleasantly upbeat ruckus. She speaks a little Welsh, a ‘Shamai’, a comment about loving Cate le Bon, before irreverently exclaiming: “I’m the thinking man’s crumpet, me, all bilingual”. Not quite, but she is still effortlessly endearing, and so is the tongue-in-cheek-twee music.

We demand an encore song. We get two. My favourite new track ‘Hackney Marsh’ is followed by ‘Christmas TV’ without microphones; an audience request which Slow Club move to the front to sing. We join in on the chorus and it is, as another strange audience member shouted earlier, quite delightful.