Celina Macdonald thinks Ditto are not like all the others

This is a real folk song because it’s so depressing,” say folk duo The Larks, who open the night, and are introducing a track inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s tale of The Little Mermaid.

Their next self-deprecatory introduction is for their “obligatory folk train song”, Last Train, which trundles along like a more reliable version of the local train service. Despite their humble introductions, their songs are decent and the singer’s voice rings through the room beautifully clear and resonant.

Vienna Ditto comprise a soulful, exuberant singer, and a madman on keyboard, drum machine, guitar and any other noises he can control simultaneously from that small set of switches he has set in front of him. During their set he can often be seen with one hand cueing the preset arrangements and the other playing guitar.

Singer Hatty Taylor occasionally reaches over, chipping in to the noise effort as they both crouch over the small machine at once, somehow managing not to get in each other’s way; but for the most part she is stuck to her microphone, somehow making sweary denouncements sound like kind endearments. Both musicians seem to be enjoying the set nearly as much as their audience: their broad smiles are almost disturbing against their darkly intense music.

Liar Liar is part Bond theme, part dark, alternative revenge track. Hatty taps the presets, unleashing a detached version of her own voice to provide the urgent “Liar! Liar!” of its chorus. They change tack with the more stripped-back By Way of Apology, which allows Hatty’s silky voice to lure us into a slightly sinister lullaby of an apology.

The set peaks with Ugly, an intense thriller of a track that shudders from start to finish. Starting with a crazy electronic beat, it suddenly falls into bluesy slide-guitar, serenading us to its dramatic drop: “This could turn ugly”, Hatty predicts as the restrained keys riff threateningly and Nigel attacks his guitar. The song is a hard one to avoid dancing to, not that anyone in The Jericho is resisting.

The use of projection adds to the band’s cinematic draw, at one point the final shootout from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly playing out behind them. I know His Blood Can Make Me Whole is another interest-ing blend of classic blues balladry and nearly industrial beats, typically building intensity towards its heavy breakdown. With their self-contained energy and refreshingly off-the-hook take on music, the local scene is lucky that Vienna Ditto can still be experienced in intimate venues.