Laura Marling - Union Chapel, London

There are certain acts that suit certain stages and Marling seems to have found her ideal home in Islington’s Union Chapel. The rows of pews, still warm from the morning’s service, are full for tonight’s show and despite the two-tier layout of the church it all feels extremely intimate.

Marling sneaks meekly onto the stage almost unnoticed and says simply “Hello, my name is Laura,” before gliding into her opener ‘Shine’. The track is pure folk brilliance from a similar stock as Carole King around her ‘Tapestry’ days, but instead of flowing locks of hair and a pretty dress Marling is kitted out like a Followill sister: checked shirt, skinny jeans and a short chopped haircut.

The audience are sat respectfully attentive, but surprisingly silent, especially as tickets for tonight’s show came free with her debut album 'Alas I Cannot Swim'. It feels slightly surreal that nobody seems to want to join in or sing along, as if we’re to be tested on the strengths of her falsetto afterwards.

However the experience allows the crowd to completely tune into the music and after her first solo song Marling is joined by her six band members as she runs into her last single ‘Ghosts’. The harmonies sound as rich and crisp as they do on record and the additional Damien Rice –esque strings add an extra haunting presence the track.

‘Cross Your Fingers’, the most poppy track of her catalogue, sounds remarkably mature tonight, even with the nursery rhyme feel to the chorus: “Cross your fingers, hold your toes/ We’re all going to die when the building blows.” Then she instantly launches into the '60s sounding interlude ‘Crawled Out Of The Sea’, a track which allows her to showcase the succulent strength of her voice as it rides over the song’s Beirut-like rhythm.

‘My Manic And I’ highlights the true depths of her songwriting talent and her eye for melodic detail as the song unravels the details of her relationship with a manic depressive, while ‘Night Terror’ sounds joyfully elegant with piercing plucks of guitar, Celtic strings and orchestral thunders from the percussion section.

Despite the great intensity of the gig there is a little respite for the audience as she tunes her guitar and tells the drummer to talk to the crowd. “Erm, Laura’s just tuning her guitar and she’s asked me to talk to you,” he says before someone jeers “I love you.” “I love you too,” he retorts, “Do you want to meet at the side of the stage afterwards?” For which he earns a wall of laughter and a round of applause.

Back with the music and Marling closes with the album’s title track ‘Alas, I Cannot Swim’ rounding the song off with an additional chorus that has been beefed up by strings, piano and bass guitar. She exits to a well-deserved standing ovation that reaffirms the quality of this rising starlet.