Holding the attention of a packed indie venue in the thick of Fresher's week, with just an acoustic guitar and two vocals in your sonic arsenal, is a tough gig in anyone's book. This is the kind of gig only a duo as gifted and enchanting as Peggy Sue And The Pirates could pull off.

More like broken-down blues than run of the mill anti-folk, their spinetingling vocal arrangements have a breezy, intuitive air about them, and the pair switched effortlessly between singing in unison and soaring close harmonies, peppering each tune with a succession of clicks, percussive pops, doo-wops and ad-libs as they went.

We were transported to a world of boozy boys, sticky kisses and shambling romance, and with each number hovering around the two minute mark, every song was blessed with the sepia-warm glow and crackly charm of a lost-long favourite 45, salvaged from a dusty old box in the loft.