But then Jesca Hoop saved me from performing unspeakable acts. Think Regina Spektor meets Cindy Lou Who, with a little Bjork thrown in for good measure, and you get the gist of the sound and the picture. Quite the spectacular figure she cut, with the question mark hairdo and the overly modest red plaid dress. With songs that were simultaneously ethereal and experimental, she was imminently fascinating.

A lapsed Mormon, who had to leave the church when her "hair would no longer fit through the church doors", Jesca told the most amazing between-song stories. My favourite was the one about the time that her staunch Mormon mother asked her and her brother to provide her with some pot to combat the pain of stomach cancer, and how, once her mom had received the peanut butter jar of dope that they had sent in the mail, Jesca then had to get high with her mom over the phone, to teach her how to do it.

Fun fact: Jesca Hoop was once a nanny for Tom Waits' kids.