Live Review: Lana Del Rey, Oliver Tank

The stage was set like a scene out of A Midsummer Night's Dream, decorated with large ferns and hedges like a garden. For the queue of fans lined up for hours at the door, that should have indicated what was to come. Then for those who got in early, they were first treated to Oliver Tank, who ably set the mood in the support slot, his layers of samples and voice effects always an impressive feat for one man and a guitar. Fawn Myers' vocals were a welcome addition, with Embrace a highlight of his set. Some epic visuals of sunsets and slow-motion waves nicely complimented his chilled electronica and paved the way for Del Rey to do her thing.

And the screams were deafening and unanimous in their excitement and adoration as Elizabeth Grant, AKA Lana Del Rey glided on to the stage. A string quartet, guitar and baby grand piano struck up the opening chords as she cooed Blue Jeans to open the set. Grant was a picture of femininity in her musky pink baby doll dress and luscious locks adorned with a crown of flowers. With fluttering fake lashes and a coquettish smile she descended the front of the stage before we had barely got a good look at her, and with the air of a queen meeting her people, strolled the length of the pit singing to fans and clasping their outstretched hands.

Some haunting cello pedal notes led into Body Electric and it only took a few minutes to clarify that the girl could actually sing. Sure, her vocals are drenched in reverb and delay, but her delicate vibrato bridged her strong upper notes and sultry lower register. Born To Die, Summertime Sadness and Video Games were met with delighted screams as the crowd sang along with every word. She sang ballad after ballad of lamented love, but it was pop with a twist as there was no attempt to rock or dance it up. In fact there was a notable absence of a rhythm section, and her already dramatic songs were indulged in full cinematic glory. It was designed to be an epic performance, and there were moments that sent shivers down your neck as the strings crescendoed and her voice rolled around the cavernous room, immortalised by a glittering sea of phones and flashes.

Her lack of chat between songs, choreographed flicks of her hair and clever coupling with images of American pop culture icons heightened the enigmatic persona that she has created as Lana Del Rey. After barely an hour on the stage she was gone again with no hint of an encore and barely a glimpse of her personality, and yet the audience was in love with her all over again.