The BRIT School in Croydon doesn’t just churn out wholesome starlets such as Katie Melua and Leona Lewis, though if either had read The Bell Jar too many times they might have ended up like classmate Polly Scattergood.

The Colchester singer’s recent debut album was mostly praised for its lo-fi take on the ethereal quirkiness of standard reference point Kate Bush. In the flesh on her first headlining tour, however, her shortcomings were cruelly exposed.

Creeping about the stage, clawing at her hair, looking slightly mumsy in a puffy party dress, there was no danger about her as she sang self-consciously shocking lines such as “You can spit on my French knickers” in Bunny Club.

She is saved on record by the intriguing electronic textures added by producer Simon Fisher Turner but here her three-piece backing band only really made their presence felt on standout moment Nitrogen Pink, which became faster and faster as it built to an impressively raucous conclusion.

Elsewhere the sole focus was Scattergood’s harsh, overly theatrical voice, delivering the kind of lyrics most girls hide in a drawer after they finish their A­levels.

“My doctor said I’ve got to sing a happy tune,” she cooed in I Hate The Way. “If you feel me please don’t break me/Please don’t let that rat man take me,” pleaded the uncharacteristically bouncy Please Don’t Touch.

Invariably favouring melodrama over melody, sparse ballads such as Poem Song were hard going.
Both PJ Harvey and Bat For Lashes will play in London in a few days and demonstrate how this feral female thing should be done. Scattergood may manage greater things as she matures, but her potential audience currently has so many better options.