BRANDED by NME as being “the bodypopping Zen guru for a new generation of cool kids”, Darwin Deez is an American indie folk artist from New York City.

His songs are mostly stripped down, kept simple and unadorned, which is his style – he recorded his album in his own apartment using only a PC and a microphone.

However, the songs pulse and throb deliciously with life and rare wit.

Not many other artists would choreograph synchronised dance routines which erupt out of nowhere. His dance moves are a key part to his live performance, engaging the crowd in the show and the music.

Bouncily infectious Bad Day is actually the most mischievous missive aimed at a romantic rival, with Mr Deez rattling of an imaginary wish list of misfortunes he hopes will befall his arch nemesis.

Next Deez flies into Constellations, to what could only be described as a rapturous reception. The dancing crowd started screaming and singing themselves into a frenzy.

Musically, the set was extremely tight, with neat rhythm supporting Deez’s light, drawled and emotive voice.

From the stab of the sad Suicide Song to the jingle of Bed Space, each track bears a stylistic imprint of its predecessor, but in some way reshapes the mould, approving whatever follows with subtle variations just enough to prevent sameness.

There is nobody around right now quite like Darwin Deez and his debut album and live shows are testament to that fact.