Summer Camp, Efes Snooker Hall, London

Some acts you just feel like you’ve grown up with, and Summer Camp are definitely one of these bands. Their internet-led rise means that most of the people in the packed audience tonight would have been introduced to the band at the same exact time; meaning that none of us can conjure up imaginary early shows they played to twenty-odd people in an upstairs of a pub that we each swear we were present at.

Fast-forward to tonight and there’s a sense of maternal warmth in the audience watching the band, made up of singer Elizabeth Sankey and guitarist Jeremy Warmsley, play a pivotal show at Dalston’s hipster hotspot Efes – a timewarp of a Turkish snooker hall come trendy ironic hangout now temporarily transformed into a gig venue for this Thursday evening.

It’s hardly their biggest show to date, so it’s not exactly like seeing as our little toddlers heading off for the first day at big school but nonetheless it does seem that after the release of their debut album ‘Welcome To Condale’ last month that there is a certain mix of both excitement and expectation in the stuffy, recycled air of Efes.

Choosing such a tongue-in-cheek venue, recently featuring in a particular Vice spoof documentary, is part of what makes Summer Camp so easy to warm to, and this facet of their personality is definitely not lost on stage. “We’ve been waiting for this show since, well, since it was booked,” Elizabeth opens the set. “But on a spiritual level, we’ve been waiting for a long, long time” comes her dry-witted punchline.

The duo kick things off in the middle of the crowd, with an unplugged rendition of pre-album single and quite honestly up there with anything released all year - ‘Better Off Without You’. This acoustic skit falls a tad flat, somewhat drown out by half the crowd not being aware of what was going on until several bars of music on Jeremy’s acoustic guitar had already been strummed, but the audience appreciates the attempt nonetheless. The pair make it back to the stage just in time for Jeremy to plug into the grid and for Elizabeth to storm into the second verse.

Given the backdrop consisting of lost-and-found antique shop photographs and B-movie reels, you’d be forgiven to think that the duo were a touch shy playing live, but by jeez have our young ‘uns bloomed and come into their own. Warmsley’s guitar and synth multi-tasking impresses those who can’t even play one instrument near as well and the duo’s live set-up benefits a great amount from their backing drummer (also of heavier-than-thou band Brontide), whose sticksmanship works as a amplifying gigantism on their sound.

But it is Sankey’s on-stage presence that really keeps our eyes from wandering to watch the ever-changing images behind. Her vocals never miss a note, the chemistry she shares with Warmsley is plain and clear throughout, and her narrative method-acting varies from coy prom princess to cheerleading sex-bomb and even a Glenn Close-in-Fatal Attraction-esque maniac during her rendition of set closer ‘I Want You’.

It’s the kind of performance that keeps you mentally noting “That one, that one was definitely the highlight” only for your choice to change just a few songs later. Blame it on my one-too-many Red Stripes if you may but I cannot seem to recall which one I finally settled upon, but it’s redundant to pick just one when highlights are in such generous supply. The pair’s stripped-back version of ‘Losing My Mind’ sees the drum beat punctuated by Elizabeth’s stomp back heel, while fan-favourite ‘Veronica Sawyer’ (introduced by Jeremy as “a really old song, from waaaay back in 2010”) provides for some faint nostalgia for the few in the audience with very bad memories or maybe just those who have been wholly immersed in the new record recently.

But perhaps it’s ‘Ghost Train’ that has to take away this imaginary accolade; arguably the group’s strongest track on record they absolutely nail it on the night – an added bonus coming with an adorably awkward embrace between Elizabeth and Jeremy while she croons “Tryin’ to get through to you, tryin’ to get through to youuuu”.

If this was the Summer Camp Movie (which it isn’t) then this would be the end of only the first instalment in a coming-of-age movie that has many sequels to come. But please excuse this metaphor as I think it up during the karaoke that takes place at the back of the room after Summer Camp’s set closes, where a fair share of stragglers let their guard down (a first ‘round these parts) with even the band themselves joining in for a duet of R Kelly’s ‘Ignition’.

I find myself damning a stranger for having already chosen ‘Faith’ by George Michael, and just this mere consideration of joining in means that it’s perhaps the right time to call it a night - a great night.