Philip Larkin once described a perfect, deep blue summer sky as the distillation of all the perfect, deep blue summer skies that had come before it. It's just one of the things that comes to mind while watching Ella Guru play an all too short set of their all too short songs. Songs such as Noisy Insects and Augustus Golden feel as if they are welling up gently among the clatter of the everyday, following only their own unhurried timetable, divulging secrets it's a privilege to overhear.

Like the Tindersticks, Ella Guru use a lot of people (eight tonight) to create a delicate, subtle sound of immense poise. The reverie they inspire recalls the Blue Nile, but actually the sound is closer to Lambchop's Nixon or Is a Woman albums. It is warm, whispery, understated, sweet with double bass, pedal steel and vocal harmonies. Sometimes a muted trumpet flutters past. Park Lake Speakers is a heady lullaby of overlapping voices; when Kate Walsh takes over lead from John Yates for Blues Is the Root, she sounds dipped in honey. Every song displays an unfailing talent for ineffably heart-breaking melody.

Of course, they're battling against the habitual rudeness of a London crowd. Walsh, clearly exasperated, says "Shut up!" and gets a cheer. Normally this would seem brattish, but every moment in Ella Guru's company seems so precious you want to beat everyone chattering until they too appreciate the magic.