Benjamin Francis Leftwich has been successfully treading the fringes of the acoustic troubadour scene for a while now; numerous intimate gigs around the UK and Europe combined with even more numerous festival appearances have become the standard formula for such artists. Having played Cambridge almost exactly a year ago as a bright-eyed, bushy tailed and band-less bloke, his repartee was littered with references to ARU and how "f**ing beautiful" the city is. He knows the crowd.

Supports were good if not great. Joe Janiak and Marika Hackman alike offered nice, neat melodies and well-pitched vocals that carried over the crowd in a somewhat aloof haze, background music to the overpriced drinks and excited chatter on the Junction floor. Marika did offer a lovely anecdote about a fan that approached her over the need to smile more- her response being that she was concerned about looking deranged. So calming was her music that it could suppress any fears for her mental stability all by itself

Leftwich took to the stage alone, and many of the best moments of the night came when the stage was occupied by just that mesmerising vocal and an acoustic guitar. ‘Pictures’, by now a decidedly “old” track despite Leftwich’s relative artistic infancy, entranced a lively room and reduced them to captive attention, punctuated by the jingle of a mobile and the somewhat-too-loud-please-shut-up chatter of certain members of the assembled congregation.

The introduction of the band, however, was not altogether successful. Extended versions of tracks like ‘Butterfly Culture’ and ‘Stole You Away’ removed one of Leftwich’s principal strengths, the ability to fade a song to a poised, gentle close. Backed by an electric guitar and drums, much of the nuance was lost to repetitious outros, stretching sculpted vignettes about love and faith into very much overwrought, almost boring urns. That said, the interplay on ‘Shine’ was perfectly pitched, with the persistent electric twinkle layering well. New song ‘Manchester Snow’ (about, and I quote, “a girl who I had intercourse with 23 times in one week”) was a little predictable in its nature and not quite his best form

The zenith of the gig came with reciprocal quietness. Stepping away from the mic to close the set with ‘Atlas Hands’ completely unplugged, a silent audience allowed Leftwich’s breathy tones to float and echo  alongside a barely perceptible melody, the two whispering into the corners of the room like smoke.  If he does indeed ‘turn and listen to the lessons I’ve learned’, Benjamin Francis Leftwich will find that all he needs are his voice and six strings on a guitar to render a listener awestruck.