Do you believe in magic? What about aliens? How about alien magicians, some martian Paul Daniels pulling green rabbits from his bumhole? This, literally, didn’t happen tonight, but what is present is a definite air of extraterrestrial weirdness, strange spells cast by Nalle that creep over a dreary Monday in Cardiff like a gold spiderweb. Earlier, Evening Chorus provided last minute support, their unplugged folk devotionals oddly fitting in this location. They have a tendency to dip into overwrought footstomping at times; I prefer their quieter, vocal-heavy moments, hushed harmonies that nod a little towards Low. Bonus points for featuring a member who looks like Paul Dano’s character from ‘There Will Be Blood’, who doesn’t get bludgeoned to death with a bowling pin. He plays accordion.

Impossible to write about Nalle without mentioning Hanna Tuulikki’s voice: at the band’s heart are vocals that swoop and pierce like Joanna Newsom or twist high pitched notes like a cartoon insect or a strange child. It’s oddly beautiful, certainly the most dominant element in a set that gathers round instrumentation sparingly, quiet layers of spangled guitar, bells or piano that almost anchor the cosmic flightiness. Genres sink in Cardiff Bay – at times Nalle are like a seance led by a devotional Chinese or Vietnamese singer, pretty expertly leading the band through outer space folk psychodramas, other times whispering through spooky, still balladeering. The dabblings in jazz turbulence present on record are mostly absent tonight; what this seems to be is an attempt to hypnotise every heart here, spiriting them through the ceiling one picked note at a time. They’ve basically made me into a total hippy, actually contemplating writing things like “trawling through stars”. Still gorgeous for all that.