“Do you wanna hear a joke?” Beth Orton proclaims, mid set, in her rolling Norfolk accent.” I know hundreds of amazing jokes,” she smiles, “I can’t fucking remember any though.”

Flanked by a motley crew of beatnik instrumentalists the singer stands, centre stage, appearing weighed-down by the acoustic guitar cradled in her arms. Her poetic lyricism is complemented by her raw, honeyed voice, thick with native inflections and colloquial charm. This voice engages with waves of heady strings (it’s a three-piece suite of violin, cello and double bass), trickling keys, evocative guitar lines and subtle, lustrous rhythms.

She opens with the wistful ‘Galaxy of Emptiness’, continues with the similarly techno-focussed title-track from her new album Daybreaker, going on to delight the crowd with some of her most warmly evocative songs from earlier albums such as Trailer Park and Central Reservation.

All in all, an accomplished, ethereal night of perfection.