The Spies narrative tends to focus on how they deliver tightly-woven dark pop tunes with a skill that betrays their young years. There is a slight throwback nature to their sound, a forward-thinking, often-piercing blend of searching arrangements and, courtesy of singer Michael Broderick, baroque, near-mournful musings.

Saturday’s Little Big Tent performance finds the man with the little big voice in somewhat of a deferential mood, hitting his mark with aplomb and politely requesting those gathered move right up to the barrier so he can feed off their lazy mid-afternoon-of-day-two energy. Spies create enough vigour themselves, most notably drummer Jeffrey Courtney who throws himself into every single aspect of his craft with demonic spirit.

Despite being indoors, the daytime setting hurts a little, much in the same way that Wild Beasts’ concurrent evocative Main Stage appointment suffers under the sun. Slivers of unwanted light creep through. Strobe lights and a busy video wall are nice touches but can't quite connect at this time of day. Spies are a game bunch, though, and power through to an appreciative and ever-growing crowd. Something a little darker on all fronts next time, please.