New York’s most iconic music tends to swing between the scuzzy reality of its mean streets, and the transcendental escapism of club culture.

Brooklyn-based indie band The Antlers inhabit an altogether different landscape from their peers, with a sound more identifiable with Scandinavia then the Big Apple.

A pair of trumpeters-cum-keyboard players gave a soaring backdrop to frontman Pete Silberman’s reverb-dripping Les Paul licks and rangey vibrato. It was all very ethereal, similarly epic in scope to the likes of Sigur Ros or Explosions in the Sky.

At its best Silberman’s clean guitar danced in the light, playfully pushing and pulling against tight drum kicks. Palace from this year’s Familiars was one of several luscious moments.

Silberman’s falsetto-sung morbid lines certainly gave the set an edge, the catalogue strewn with baroque balladry.

But the show was mired in sound issues, piercing feedback leaving band members grimacing with frustration.

The sonic polish and band’s ultimate effectiveness was not fully realised, and the audience were only partly engaged.

With the songs reliant on a vividness of sound not possible on the night, the band were exposed, still stylish but less substantial.