Ah, Whelans of a drizzly Autumn evening — is there anything better? Down Camden street, dodging cars – because Jesus, isn’t town busy on a Thursday! In we ducked, into the lamplit halls, out and away from the rain…

Following her atmospheric debut LP it was the launch night of Maija Sofia’s sophomore effort True Love.

Four years on from the release of Bath Time, Sofia’s style is already so remarkably distinct, her style so well developed, that you’d think she was about five or six LPs in – a veteran of the indie circuit. But this is only album two for the Irish singer-songwriter; and with a promise of a whole new collection of songs, there was a palpable sense of excitement and devout appreciation in the air.

Hailing from the rural West of Ireland, perhaps it is in the trans-generational poetic tradition of our little island that Sofia channels her artistry, or it is just sheer brilliance plucked from the aether. Regardless, it's safe to say Sofia’s music is anything but rocks and crags, and Ourselves Alone…

After a spellbinding set from English opener Laura Groves, the downpour had stopped – and out came Maija Sofia, in a sparkling sequined dress, armed with a glass of red wine.

Opening the set alone, Sofia took up her guitar for a beautiful rendition of ‘Saint Aquinas.’ With a vocal intonation comparable to fellow folk musician Haley Heynderickx, ‘Saint Aquinas’ truly allowed Maija’s voice and introspective lyrics to take centre stage; showcasing her intimate songwriting style that is somehow instantly recognizable, yet strikingly unique – a hazy blur of personal anecdotes and lived experiences.

The singer-songwriter was then joined onstage by harpist Maeve Mckenna, drummer Solamh Kelly and Chris Barry on keyboard and bass duties for the night. ‘The glitter,’ – A self-proclaimed “banger" from Bath Time – was an ornately constructed torrent of purest poetry; once again showing off Maija’s brilliantly folky guitar playing and superb vocals.

Before launching into ‘Saint Sebastian,’ Maija quipped: “this is possibly the third song about a saint this evening!” The song has an undeniable literary quality to it – a perfect storm of astute observation and eloquent phrasing, as Sofia conjured her own distinctly anachronistic brand of melancholia.

A jaunty baroque-pop centrepiece with shades of Kate Bush, ‘Telling The Bees’ was an undeniable standout of the night. Charmingly anachronistic, the True Love cut saw Sofia’s idiosyncratic lyrics laid over an ethereal bed of harp and organ.

Maija Sofia in 'Telling The Bees.' Directed by Anna Heisterkamp.

Mckenna’s otherworldly harping proved to be the perfect compliment for the spectral ‘Wife of Michael Cleary,’ a haunting biographical odyssey through the life of Bridget Cleary, a woman who was burned to death by her husband in 1895. Swirling, wispy – We all squinted to catch the gossamer, ‘Astrology Song,’ before it disappeared in a fog of smoke.

In regards to playing the eagerly awaited album launch show, Maija expressed her apprehension, saying: “I have so much nervous energy right now!”

“I saw PJ Harvey play last week and she just didn’t say a word, and I was like, I should do that…”

The band then launched into ‘Four Winters’ an uncompromising declaration of female agency and bodily autonomy. Poetically interrogating body politics and sexual violence, Sofia kept audiences captivated; McKenna’s harp flourishes adding a beautiful point of sonic contrast to the song’s heavy subject matter.

Maija Sofia in 'O Theremin.' Directed by Zoe Greenway.

“Thank you all so much for being here, I recognise how lucky I am and I don’t take any of it for granted,” Maija began.

“I hope True Love finds you in both a musical sense and in the metaphysical sense…”

Sofia then closed out the set – by herself once more – with the blisteringly raw ‘Weird Knight,’ a ruminative autobiographical track wrapped up in references to Chaucer’s ‘Wife of Bath.’ In music journalism it’s easy to get caught up in lofty adjectives and dreamy meanings, yet none such seem to do Sofia’s music justice. Try as I may, nothing quite encloses her enrapturing soundscapes. They won’t be held.

A wrenching exorcism – at times stingingly confessional, to listen to Sofia live feels almost as if to intrude; as if you’d pushed a pint glass to a wall and pressed it to your ear…

Rapturous applause, and then all was quiet again.

Had we all purged something of our innermost? Expelled some catharsis of the dimmest recesses? Perhaps. But if one thing was for certain, the general feeling at Maija Sofia’s gig was that we were bearing witness to something truly special...