Zola Jesus is a reformed opera singer with lungs as big as barrels. She measures little more than 5ft in height and would probably have problems getting clearance for the big-girls’ rides on Brighton Pier.

With a cutesy-elfin like face and a couple of dicey looking carers offering support on keys, Jesus appeared, to the uninitiated at least, who’d perhaps read the Sunday style-guide buzz sections, squeaky clean.

But the 21-year-old American is no hausfrau. This was her first UK show and she was out to prove herself. She waltzed into the crowd, fighting the microphone lead, pacing back and forth as if possessed by one of Shelley’s darkest secrets, and snatched a candle from the table beside the dribbling press pack.

It was put out with bare hands and, presumably, a spell cast.

The often brilliant, bone- shuddering and brain-crushing tracks from the Stridulum EP – Night, Trust Me, I Can’t Stand, Manifest Destiny and opener Run Me Out – made Fever Ray sound like Sun Ray, and were relentless.

Just before the end, she retreated to a corner, mounted a table and cooed for the cameras, casting evil, possessive stares over anyone who dared look, and left only one enduring question: was this banshee, who threatened at any moment to unveil wing of bat and leg of toad, actually for real?