Silhouetted shapes with hoodies move across the stage like a scene from a poorly lit budget horror film. It’s anything but horrifying though, it’s Little Boots and her gang.

The first number is deliberately slow and is set mostly in darkness. It’s intriguing and slightly unsettling. Then, bang!

The stage comes alive with production, we love it and we love her. Henceforth she shall be known as “our heroine”. Each song is captivating and the performance magnetic. If anyone has more immensely unique talents and innate, effortless and natural charm than Victoria Hesketh then I don’t know who. Unless, of course, it’s me. Ha ha. Little Joke there. And another. Thing is she’s got me a bit giddy.

Bopping away, mic in one hand, tambourine in the other, she’s clearly born to do this and she makes us feel like we’re born to be there. In between numbers she’s instictively warm and funny and there’s aplomb with a heckler: She tells us she’s taking her coat off cos she’s too hot and on pleb shouts: “Take it all off”. I couldn’t actually make out the reply but everyone laughed and it sounded like she’d took it in good spirit rather than calling him a nob. He shouted some other similar stuff and we’re getting to the point where I think I’ll have to go down the front there and step in. You know, old school style. Yeah, I’m a gentleman and no-one messes with my Little Boots.

At one point, she says “let me see your hands Manchester” and everyone does it!

To my ears she’s note perfect throughout: Angelic, Melodic, Perfect. The whole room is in the palm of her hand and there’s nowhere we’d rather be. After an enthralling encore with just her on the keyboard, I skip off and for the next 12 hours I didn’t want to listen to anything else, lest I dilute the sound of our heroine in my head.