When not helping to up the sales of plaid shirts in urban Britain, folk act Noah and the Whale have found time to craft a highly calculated on-stage formula. While this approach works to keep the music tight and crisp, it does invite a definite impression of monotonised routine even before the band's appearance. Prior to the show, the band treat us to a rather affected film clip, embarrassingly worthy of Spinal Tap. On two projectors to either side of the stage, the band are depicted in moody black and white, backstage at some festival making their way to the screaming crowds. Unsurprisingly, just before their heroic appearance on stage, the arty clip freezes and in this cultivated air of expectation and anticipation, into our adoring presence they stride. In truth, it’s a rather cringe-worthy bit of ostentatiousness.

The songs are executed flawlessly – but whether this is through a concentrated effort of unadulterated talent, or solely the result of two years playing exactly the same songs remains to be seen. ‘Rocks and Daggers’ was the unexpected (and premature) climax of the evening, with ‘Shape of my Heart’ following on a close second. Fink’s attempts to redirect his band from over-popular folk trendiness is glaringly apparent in the one dimensional live re-working of the usually down-home traditionalistic ‘Mary’ which now seems to have dropped its diversion into a heavy jamming session. Without this, it was circular and uninspired.

Two years ago, Noah and the Whale helped to coin a pop/folk persuasion that now is entirely mainstream. Fink’s Nirvana tee shirt reflects an anxious fumbling for a grittier new route for his collective. To regain their momentum, Noah and the Whale will need to produce a new inspiration, something with a bit more guts – anything to fend off the folk twee convention.