"Foxes" Allen might be the result. She's almost too perfect: a big-voiced waif who drinks tea on stage, vibrates like a washing machine when transported by the music and knows a blastingly anthemic chorus when she hears one. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she was one of the big British attractions at this year's South By Southwest. Back in London, word of mouth has done its work, and she's greeted by a crowd of admiring teenage girls and equally receptive middle-aged men. Foxes's live setup is similar to that of La Roux and Florence + the Machine: she's in charge of theatrics, while a shadowy backing band – in this case, a keyboardist and a drummer – press the buttons. The venue's small size forces Foxes and her musicians to play almost in each other's laps, giving the baroque electro-pop a wayward momentum. Beauty Queen, a stately processional that asserts that looks are irrelevant (a bit rich, coming from a woman whose gorgeousness is very much part of the package), leads straight into White Coats' dubstep, which gives way to the Björkish lullaby Home. It's a mish-mash but an interesting one, and the musicians' physical proximity seems to be driving it on, with Foxes careening into the drumkit and, during the minimal, skittish Youth, bashing the synthpads.g

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