Sheffield's Monkey Swallows The Universe might have the silliest name in musical memory but last night's charming gig was far from foolish.

The folk-pop fivepiece, dressed as ordinarily as Emmerdale characters, chatted timidly through two albums of dainty melodies (the gorgeous The Casket Letters is out any day) and saw 150 fans leave smiling. Frontwoman Nat Johnson may even possess one of the most captivating female voices around - think Andrea Corr tuned by Leslie Feist - because her closed-eye performance hypnotised our snug attic-room.

Sadly their poignant glockenspiel-tinkled tunes about love, death and everything in between lacked a certain distinction; at the hour's close few tracks had prised themselves apart from the pack of very nice Sunday afternoon music. Moreover, the resolutely surly cellist Andy George detracted from the band's friendly charm.

But acoustic delicacies old (Sheffield Shanty) and new (Statutory Rights) mingled comfortably while a toy monkey on Cate Tully's violin dangled in the breezy ballads.

Names mislead; a famous writer once wrote "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet".

And if Monkey Swallows The Universe went by the moniker Monkey Hiccups Pyjamas In Doodlepipsqeak they would sound just as lovely.