Apologies to Gwenno for missing all but her two last songs. She, and you, may not believe me, but I was hosting a book group on a translated French novel about philosophy and repressed love (I thought it was alright). Opinions on Gwenno’s glossy pop range from “Eurovision” (my friend) to “clear-eyed, classy tunes of simple electropop bounce, sassy verses and bossy choruses, wasted a little on a sparse Buffalo crowd, probably” (me). In other words, it was alright.

If Gwenno lacks the killer musical key that can transform venues whose decor is a groovy mix of bands that split up twenty years ago and semi-naked women, then The School needn’t worry: their whole existence is based on the fact that beautifully crafted songs can lift you out of any dungeon and leave you in an unpoppable bubble for three minutes at a time. They are ridiculously underrated in Cardiff, but the School’s music combines classic, uncool melodic nous and finely arranged pop chops with just enough melancholy and human fragility that failing to recognise them is like missing that swimming pool full of diamonds outside your front door. Last song, All I Wanna Do Is Hang Around With You, Be My Baby drumbeat, harmonies on the second chorus, is where I want to be forever.

Lisa Milberg looks like Britt Ekland. Britt Ekland nowadays. This is not neccessarily a bad thing, and sort of adds an interesting layer to her pared down, downbeat blues husks. Fans of the otherwordly pop decency of previous partners the Concretes have little to cling to tonight; Milberg and band take slow, bare laments and cloak them in thin layers of guitar and drums. Mostly, it suceeds: skeletal torch songs that smoulder quite nicely, if never really catch fire. Her set may pale in comparison to say, Julie Doiron’s recent, stellar Buffalo turn, but for half an hour or so, Milberg’s a fair hearth to stand next to.