It’s a bit refreshing to watch an artist perhaps not quite realise how good they are. Meg Mac is beginning to work it out, even as, between those bursts of old and new soul that come from her, she kept expressing a disbelief and delight in drawing the first of many sold-out rooms she’s going to experience on her debut headlining tour.

Said crowd – mostly from the well-groomed and fashionable end of the triple j audience – was obviously here for the main attraction, staying defiantly seated on the carpet checking their devices as the men of Rainy Day Women put in with some style and grace, singer Dylan Ollivierre enquiring politely if their “…arses weren’t getting sore from sitting.”

When the harmonies of Friends kicked in, they could almost be The Panics’ younger and tidier brothers. They finished with the also-played-on-that-radio-station subtle swing of Mrs Jones, which at least got some flickers from the reclining masses.

But the night really was all about Meg, even if she kept glancing towards sister/backing singer/moral support Hannah for nods of reassurance.

Ms Mac hit most all recognition points: Know Better (“The first thing I put out into the world…”) came early. She’s making that version of Broods’ Bridges increasingly hers rather than theirs – it’s a sinuous thing. The band go with her, ranging – like her songs – from retro to synthesised soul, the bass and drums deep and throbbing through the floor. But it all comes back to that curled smoke voice of hers, where she’s still finding new things. Set finished with the statement of intent that is Roll Up Your Sleeves. There is no encore – she’s done enough to convince the few who weren’t on board before. Maybe even herself.