Juliet Turner cuts a striking figure as she scrapes her auburn hair to one side and looks down from the Vicar St stage. Toweringly tall, at times she seems almost awkward, her movements exaggerated even when swaying ever so gently to the sound of her backing band.
But there’s absolutely nothing awkward about the way she commands the stage tonight, and from the opening ‘Everything Beautiful Is Burning’ she is utterly assured and confident, leading the audience through a set of songs that function as little snapshots of her life. Her stage presence is the type that smoulders, drawing you in and making you sit forward in your seat as opposed to dazzling and knocking you back on your heels. It’s a no-bullshit, girl-next-door kind of allure that is mirrored in her music and has lead to her getting lauded by everybody from Terry Wogan to Niall Stokes (insert gag at Ed’s expense here).
And then of course there’s that voice – shy yet sultry, strong but fragile, often in the same song. The music ranges from the breezy audience singalong vibe of ‘Take The Money And Run’ to the eerie atmospherics that accompany ‘Vampire’. Mainly playing material from her new album, her backing band (including occasional string section) are excellent, and if attention does tend to wander now and again during the two hour set it’s never for long.
The inbetween song banter, spoken in an accent that would sound sexy reading the yellow pages, ranges from the Iraq war to having Elvis as a guardian angel, from the pros and cons of one night stands to the story of her first awkward snog at the Christmas disco – the apparent inspiration behind ‘1987’, one of the highlights of the set.
And by the time she reminds us of her folk beginnings by taking to the stage with just her guitar for company at the encore, it’s impossible not to have been thoroughly charmed.