Stepping into The Shacky's icy cold room (or 'dance hall' as they affectionately call it, in reference to its former glory) at the start of the evening, it was little wonder that for a good half of the night many of the crowd remained huddled into their coats and scarves from the snow-laden streets outside.

Those who were still warming upon hot toddies in the outside bar would have undoubtedly missed the rather intriguing, and certainly mystifying, o F F Love. It's hard to actually tell anything about him, and not least because he performs disguised beneath a black and white scarf (patterned with yin/yang symbols) that completely covers his head and face, topped off with a baseball cap - and on this occasion at least, in near total darkness, bar projected visuals from his You Tube videos.

Some research later elicits that he is a Parisian producer and affiliated to The Gay Mormon Kissing Club project, with an album, 'Probably Love' released last month, and with an interesting website and Tumblr blog. (http://www.off-is-love.com/), and it would seem that he has also quietly been garnering a small following for himself across Europe. A break-off from Witch House genre, just one man and the aid of a computer, this was a set of ethereal, fragile, minimalist melodies ('Be Around U', 'Disenchanted Fairytale', 'Close To U', 'Let U Know' being the most captivating) that revolve around the concept of love.

I have to admit I was a little bemused at the time, and so it appeared were one or two others, particularly when he moved into the front row and began serenading the punters. But of the night's three artists it was he whom I spent the early hours of the following morning listening to. It's not in-yer-face stuff, more like having a hypnotic spell cast upon you. If you go for the Perfume Genius vibe, o F F Love is one to catch. And since he's opening for Chairlift on their current European dates (playing at London's Borderline on 6 March), you might be wise to do so.

When Elise Commathe, the female half of brother and sister duo, Au Palais (pictured above), is on stage, you can quickly forget the showiness of your Madonnas and Gagas (and the pouting Princess Del Rey), for this lady has a charm that is both enchanting and effortless, together with a voice as sweet as dripping honey. Given how many males lined the front row armed with cameras, it must be seen that the French-Canadian pair are doing a fine job on fostering international relations.  Now based in London, Au Palais demonstrated in their smooth rich electronica on last year's 'Tender Mercy' EP that they echo fellow North Americans Austra.  Tonight their set takes in the sultriness of 'Tender Mercy' itself and 'Pathos' to the up-tempo, bop-de-bop of 'Other Kids' to balance out the delicate nature of the rest of the material, and predominantly, Elise's own vocal. To warm up the crowd she introduces this by way of 'This is the time to dance!' And that they did - and so did she, moving off stage to the floor to display some rather fine moves.  'On 'Thrones', a new AP number, with brother David providing some rich fuzzy synth work, it's hard to believe there are only two of them with such a fullness of sound they somehow manage to create.  'Thank you', Elise whispers to an appreciative audience at the end of set finale, 'Omamori'. No, thank you, mademoiselle.

If the room had been half full and decidedly chilly a couple of hours earlier, by the time headliners Blouse take to the stage head numbers and heat degrees had all increased by a fair few degrees. There is much expectancy in the atmosphere for this trio from Portland, Oregon, currently riding on the back of their self-titled debut album, and similarly to the likes of Trailer Trash Tracys, are running up the woozy electro/dream-pop/shoegaze flag.

Vocalist/guitarist Charlie Hilton may look your typical rock chick and from whom you might expect some thrashing guitar licks and a cigarettes-and-whisky roughened vocal, instead she defies appearance when she works through a ten-song set in part hushed, part icily cool style.  A touch of Nico here, a trace of Trish Keenan perhaps there. And for much of the set it works. The line-up (Hilton, and bassist Patrick Adams - third member on recorded works, Unknown Mortal Orchestra's Jacob Portrait, opting out on tour) are augmented by the addition of Misty Mary on synth and Paul Roper, drums. Whilst this lifts proceedings up into a poppier field - 'Time Travel' resounds to bouncy drums and glacial guitar and shimmering synth strikes, and 'Firestarter' hammers up the shoegaze into more of a rocky infusion - there is a tendency for Hilton to become vocally submerged indistinctively into the wash of instrumentation going on around her.

There are plenty of reverb-drenched moments, as on the mellifluous layers of 'Controller', for example, while 'Videotapes' provides infectiously catchy hooks. Blouse undoubtedly deliver plenty in terms of silky lushness, but in a similar way to the aforementioned Tracys, there is little to distinguish one song from another, moving as they do from song to song without any defining structure. By the time they finish the main set (with the exquisitely sharp guitar-worked 'Into Black'), punters are already starting to leave. Even Hilton seems surprised when she asks 'You want us to play another one?' acknowledging those still resolutely fixed to their places, stage front. As they bring the encore of 'Roses' to an end and the last of the remaining crowd shuffle back out into the Dalston chill, the parting feeling is that with a little more definition Blouse could become a promising band. But for a snowy February night, a little more heat would have been nice.