Live Review: Tiny Ruins

When you walk up the stairs to Black Bear Lodge and see a curtain drawn across the middle the bar of what is already one of the Valley's most diminutive venues, you quickly realise you're in for an intimate show. But that environment is quite conducive for what Angharad Drake is trying to communicate with her delicate folk numbers. The Brisbane artist draws on her quickly expanding discography to entrance the few people gathered in front of her, the material from last year's Sword cutting through the most noticeably.

What is the perfect crowd size for a singer/songwriter type? That's the conundrum we ponder when Tiny Ruins frontwoman Hollie Fullbrook takes the stage to play a headlining gig surrounded by a smattering of people, ahead of her support slot tomorrow night at Jose Gonzalez's sold-out show.

On the plus side for tonight people in the crowd have largely unfettered access to the toilet and bar, but on the negative side, if you crack your knuckles people on the other side of the room glower at you like the most crotchety librarian you ever encountered in high school. Also, as Fullbrook presents her beautiful songs, it's hard not to do a head count and feel guilty about how much money such a talented performer is likely to take home from such an intimate gig. To her credit though, Tiny Ruins never lets her accountant's presumed bitterness interfere with the sweetness of her lilting voice. As she plucks at her acoustic guitar and works her way through some of the material recently released as the Hurtling Through EP — a collaboration with The Clean's Hamish Kilgour — the singer injects a real sense of intimacy into what might otherwise be just a mostly empty room. As such, the small crowd watches wordlessly on as Tiny Ruins works through tableaux of everyday melancholy like Me at the Museum, You in the Wintergardens.

Without the regular mid-set punter conversation touchstones "urgh, why is this jerk next to me filming the entire goddamned set on their phone" or "oh dude, some chode just dropped half a drink on my foot", Fullbrook's voice really finds its mark, the understated nature of her poetry gains more significance because it is being presented in such a silent environment. As she discusses the personal significance of John Cale songs and awkwardly becomes self-reflective when her jokey banter doesn't hit home, the small crowd comes to feel like they share some link to the performer. Which is the beauty of the 'intimate' show — it forges a cast-iron link between whoever is in attendance and the performer. And tonight there's probably not a person in the Black Bear Lodge that doesn't feel inextricably linked to the music of Tiny Ruins.