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Established in 2008, Sweden’s Dragonfly Festival has grown in small steps from a personable gathering in the woods of Ekehagens Forntidsby to offer a one-off London performance aimed a popularising the event before Dragonfly 2010.

Tonight’s city showcase presents seven musicians who, due to time constraints, each have a stage time of about 20 minutes. The changeovers are fluid and the evening succeeds with the air of a variety show, a cabaret in which clapped-out comedy is replaced by engaged, emotive artists.

Belfast’s John McGurgan opens with a mature and thought-provoking selection from independently-released albums Alone, In Two Minds and Gipsy Street. New song ‘Two Up, Two Down’ gets an airing, but you can’t ignore the stark appeal of ‘Empty Mind’, asking that “if you see Jesus, beat him to death”. There are calls from the crowd for ‘Jenny and Her Vega Machine’ but alas, there’s no time.

Dressed in jeans and a thin-collared checked shirt, Londoner Jack Cheshire dispels the likely-lad impression with an acoustic performance backed by drums and electric double-bass. His lyrics match the immersive, speedily-strummed songs with stand-out lines: for this young man, “love is a keepsake”.

After a joyous, succinct performance from London’s Stillhouse Orchestra (closing with a rousing version of ‘You Are My Sunshine’), Semaphore create a sound loud enough to shake the bottles at the back of the bar. Led by Irishman Louis Brennan, the trio are speculative, expansive, with drummer Marco Ryan Testa triggering samples that add to the swell of songs like ‘Accidents Will Happen’ and ‘Too Fast’. Following the deluge, solo singer/songwriter John Smith silences the crowd with only his voice. Singing folk songs about death accompanied only by the sparkling sound of fresh guitar strings, he throws a cover of ‘No-One Knows’ by Queens of the Stone Age. He’s like a young Roy Harper, and he performs at No Alibis Bookshop on Belfast’s Botanic Avenue in April.

Later in the evening Smith joins colourful performer Beth Rowley (pictured), following a loungey, jazzy performance that makes Amy Winehouse sound as crude and intrusive as a steamship’s foghorn. With an explosion of blonde ringlets, grace onstage and – most importantly – songs like ‘Almost Persuaded’, her future aches with potential.

Dragonfly Festival organisers House of Trees round the night off. Swedish singer Djamila SkoglundVoss sits on a stool and though she reads lyrics from paper on her lap, there’s no hesitancy. Her voice weaves around James Carnell’s percussion and Rob Coe’s twelve-string guitar, with each between-song break a chance to thank everyone who helps make the festival possible. As she says in closing, “see you in August”. Kiran Acharya

Beth Rowley picture by Katy Chan

There’s much style and maybe a little substance at this pretty boy parade, which is no bad thing, of course – quite frankly, life would be boring otherwise. Ed Zealous fulfil their criteria of a little substance for the evening by reeling in a few glitches to play the kind of punchy, solidly performed set we’ve come to expect from them, preparing us well for a bit of style from Hockey.

Despite last October’s Mind Chaos being hugely amicable but vaguely disappointing offering, the Portland, Oregon band need the swagger and presence of singer Benjamin Grubin to propel them beyond the niggling feeling that they sound like one of countless hipster bands that do the same job. Swinging across the stage like a bohemian, feather ear-ringed Mika, it’s clear from ‘Work’ that they set themselves apart well, churning out a series of frivolous – but pleasurable – indie disco grooves, albeit infringed by an occasional white-boy rap. This is pop – good pop and very much enjoyable at that – flowing from breezy, Temper Trap-esque new material to ‘Curse This City’, and climaxing with ‘Song Away’, which draws the surprisingly bustling crowd flamboyantly into a sing-along before the closing ‘Too Fake’.

There is dancing, while a singer who looks like he has woken up in a skip of Urban Outfitters’ cast-offs scales the Spring and Airbrake’s pillars, but while it’s easy to focus on the substance, Hockey are a reminder how it’s sometimes easy to underrate the fun to be had from a bit of style. Aoife McKeown