When it comes to articles about Joanna Newsom, there are several observations about her that seem to practically be compulsory to mention. These include: how attractive she is (which indicates how sexist music and music journalism can be as rarely is music performed by men judged on how attractive or not they might be); her elven, fantastical appearance (or in recent interviews, an attempt to prove the opposite and that she’s actually a serious, down-to-earth woman who inhabits the same world as the rest of us); her extraordinary love-it-or-hate-it voice and music; and finally the fact that her live shows are seen as awe-inspiring communal experiences. All of which were in evidence during the first show of a two-date stay at London’s Royal Festival Hall.

Supporting act, British folk legend Roy Harper puts in an affable and surprisingly smooth-running set – considering his lack of sound check and that he hadn’t played in public for three years, only coming out of retirement at Newsom’s request, the fact that there are only a few signs of, as he puts it ‘sheets of rust falling off’ is very impressive. He is also the first person of the night to draw attention to Newsom’s looks during the long and rambling but gracious thank you to her at the end of his set. He isn’t the last however – early on into her set a member of the audience asks Newsom to marry him, and there are numerous other comments made from the audience on that note, she handles them well however, jokingly batting away the attention and responding to a comment from a member of the audience old enough to know better (the audience for the show covering a wide age range, from the young and fashionable, to middle aged couples) by referring to him as ‘sir’.

 Despite the comments made to the contrary in recent interviews, she still very much has a girlish, otherworldly appearance, skipping onto the stage wearing a white flowing dress like something out of The Wicker Man (the dress also comes complete with an inconvenient belt of seashells which causes a delay later on in the performance when it gets tangled up on her piano stool). However, her witty stage banter is rather more earthy than that would imply – when introducing the five band members who accompany her, she attempts to pimp out her trombone player based on his impressive mouth-harp playing skills. She is also just as gracious as Harper, genuinely enthused to have him perform on the same stage as her.

Her singing voice, while still distinctively high-pitched, is also less girlish than it sounds on record, a result of both the well-publicised vocal surgery she had before undertaking her most recent record, and the fact that the auditorium (with its unusual stage and seating layout making it look like a 1950s bear pit) gives it room to resonate. Opening her set with a solo rendition of ’81, her voice and dextrous harp playing are more than enough to fill the large room and grab the audience’s attention. Unfortunately this means that the band members who join her on second number Have One On Me (in addition to the trombonist there are also two violin players, a drummer and a guitarist who also switches to tabla, banjo and recorder during the evening) although talented are often surplus to requirement. When individuals or a small number of the players accompany Newsom the sound is quite beautiful, but when all the members are playing at once the sounds get lost in the mix, particularly so for Kingfisher, the beautiful simplicity of which on record here rendered somewhat muddy, although still enjoyable. Her drummer, co-vocalist and co-arranger of her most recent album Neal Morgan does deserve a special mention however, as his drumming is quite mesmerising to watch, using his hands, and every available part of the drum kit and sticks he provides an interesting and meticulous accompaniment. He also proves himself to be as good company as Newsom, handling a fairly nonsensical audience Q and A session (he describes it as psychedelic), during which the band are asked for their opinions on subjects ranging from Iron Man 2 to who should be the next Chancellor of the Exchequer while Newsom retunes her ‘persnickety’ harp.

The audience, despite the aforementioned comments, treat the occasion with a sense of reverence, offering an enthusiastic round of applause for each song, even though the set-list is mostly made up of songs from the new record (Have One On Me might very well be the best record Newsom has made so far, but as it was only released less than three months before the show it’s surprising that the songs are so well received). The numbers Newsom drops in from her first record do get the biggest round of applause, particularly The Book of Right On, as does the sole representative from her second album Ys, Monkey and Bear (which manages to be spine-tingling despite suffering from the sound mix problems towards the end), however Have One On Me’s Good Intentions Paving Co. also seems to be another audience favourite, earning a round of applause as it starts. Ending the set on Occident isn’t the best decision as it is one of the less impressive tracks on the most recent record and gives the feeling of the set winding down rather than going out with a bang. Fortunately Newsom and her band return to encore with Baby Birch, here given a jagged and boisterous edge thanks to the addition of (rather too loud) distorted guitar and spirited backing vocals from the rest of the band, which provides the perfect climax to the evening, even if it is not one of her older, more well-known tracks.