Spencer Krug begins this evening by walking unaccompanied through the aisles of St. Pancras Old Church, clutching his hands, trying to bring warmth to taciturn fingertips; he brings it to a close by frenetically stabbing keys, swinging his legs and singing the refrain “I’m as spiritual as I need to be” toward an effigy of Christ. Perching atop a lectern of precariously stacked cushions, sipping whisky, Moonface is preaching to an audience for the first time about the meek beauty of new album Julia With Blue Jeans On.

After a smile and a short introduction, Krug’s fingers bounce the opening bars of the record’s centrepiece, “Love The House You’re In”, the crowd; draped, perched, and stood, are furrowed and transfixed. “I regretfully withdraw my offer to try to improve myself; I sincerely believe the results would be a disaster,” come the words from his mouth and whilst his voice remains one of the most idiosyncratic in alternative culture, tonight it is transformed into an orchestra of timbres. Before the show, Krug modestly voiced to us how he spent his winter re-learning how to play the piano and, after the first of many elongated solo sections of the evening; he illustrates how much difference a few months can make.

The schizophrenic “Barbarian” duo follow, and they provide a raw physicality that is often lost in shows of this nature. Krug intermittently pushes his head to the side, clutches the air with his one hand and kicks pedals, this is juxtaposed unintentionally by the sparse ambience of several coloured lamp lights. Through his intensity, the sombre, melancholic parables of the record come to life, and cries like “I don’t know If I can call this home” seem all the more pertinent.

“I’ve never played in a church before.” Krug jests, “there are a lot of my lyrics that God wouldn’t like, so, sorry… Sir” he absent-mindedly plucks a few keys “it’s already raining; it wouldn’t take much for him to throw a lightning bolt down now .” From the “Honesty Policy” merchandise table, to the conversational ambling between songs, there’s a warmth and trust here which you’ll seldom find in Central London on a Sunday Night.

It’s a compliment that Moonface chose the UK, a place he rarely visits, to play the most unique show of his forthcoming tour, and it’s no wonder that it sold-out so quickly. Ethereally-stained, rudimentary and stunning; this diminutive old church is the idyllic location to celebrate and explore a record which reads from such a similar manifesto. Though, with that in mind, the atmospheres of the songs are peculiarly different to their sonically similar recorded versions. Pieces like “Your Chariot Awaits” and “Dreamy Summer” are manipulated by Krug emphasising their nuances with winces and solitary snaps of his fingers.

Throughout the evening, Krug tears slats of muscle from himself with the barbaric honesty of his songs. Erratic, overwhelming and taught, “Julia With Blue Jeans On” is Krug like you’ve never heard him before and, as an encore of new material bleeds out, a lucky hundred in the crowd prepare themselves for Moonface’s next sermon.

By Oobah Butler.