At 18, I had giant nerdy glasses and a rather dodgy line in oversized cardigans. Over-sarky, socially awkward and way out of my depth.

Laura Marling’s just turned 18 and took to the stage in Whelan’s this evening with the kind of effortless grace I still struggle to muster up at 27. Her songs belie her age – fairytale prose delivered with flawless diction – and none of their complexity was lost live. Her delicate guitar picking was rounded out beautifully by “music man” Marcus Mumford, who played his fingers, knees and a bar stool because “Ryanair charge by the bag so we couldn’t bring a bass drum or a snare”. It made for a far more interesting sound, anyway.

It’s refreshing to see a female singer of that age not going down the well-trodden Lily Allen/Kate Nash quirky-pop path. Laura Marling’s in an altogether different class, and already a remarkably self-assured songwriter and performer who seems happy to let her songs speak for themselves. Who knows what marvels she’ll be singing about at 27…