On a main stage bill dominated by indie boys (and, let's face it, indie oldies), Kate Nash is a welcome breath of Fifties-flavoured fresh air.
Where else, after all, are you likely to see a young woman thrashing a piano as though her life depended on it, seated in the middle of an enormous baby clam shell of all things? Her band, in suave grey suits and her string players in pink dresses, sound tight and it's a class act. The sun even shines a couple of times.
And the crowd of women who look suspiciously like Nash, all glittery eye makeup and flowers in their hair, are lapping it up. There's not much chat in this 45-minute set, but no matter. Nash launches into proceedings with her knowing whimsical pop ditties of teenage love and loss, bouncing up and down on her piano stool as if there's a spring beneath those voluminous green skirts. Here she is proving once again that she is much closer to Regina Spektor than Lily Allen, which is of course a very, very good thing.
Sometimes, this young popster even jumps up to play her acoustic guitar, proving she's no one instrument wonder, her band accompanying her on toy xylophone and ukeleles. It's hard to believe this is only Nash's second year at Scotland's biggest festival.
"It's lovely to be back," she hollers.
