Cate Le Bon @ Brudenell Social Club, Leeds, 21 Dec

'Life-affirming' is a tired platitude, but it’s nothing short of a truism when talking about Cate Le Bon’s recent live performances. Even more special is witnessing the Carmarthenshire-born, LA-based musician with a whole room in the palm of her hand. Her upward trajectory is just reward for her singular vision, and borne out by her increased confidence: her countenance is composed, and her musicianship faultless. What’s most noticeable, though, is that Cate Le Bon doesn’t have any bad songs.

2016’s Crab Day LP features heavily in the set list tonight: its songs contain a madcap, restrained chaos that counteracts sublimely with Cate’s prolific use of melody and nuance. Her predilection for loud/quiet disparities (see the heartfelt balladry of Love is Not Love alongside the playful and disjointed Wonderful) indicate a quality that’s not far from iconic, with her use of repetition working seamlessly live. The rest of the band are of course similarly adept in their craft, and as a collective they make a tight, coherent whole.

There’s a captivating coolness to Cate Le Bon’s vocals, and it’s the moments when her voice is the loudest instrument where the real magic happens: tonight her crystal clear refrain – not averse to showing cracks of vulnerability – sounds particularly splendid on the minimal Greta, from 2012’s triumphant Cyrk.

The staggering hypnosis of What’s Not Mine concludes tonight’s set and it’s nothing if not awe-inspiring. Featuring an impressive interplay between two guitars, resulting in a seemingly never-ending, erratic crescendo, it’s the song that proves most affecting both on record and live. With the show billed as a special Christmas gig, we’re left wondering what our host has planned for an encore, and she doesn’t disappoint. Only Cate Le Bon could make Wham!’s Last Christmas sound like her own: as lamentable as the original, but with a skewed, post-punk twist, and obviously now more poignant in retrospect. She even manages to make Jingle Bells sound like a lost, melancholy classic.

So many people like to dismiss the importance of new music in favour of nostalgia: a reverence for the past which proclaims the likes of Bowie to have been part of a golden era that will never be surpassed. It might sound a little gushing, but if ever you find yourself reeling from post-pop cynicism, stick on a Cate Le Bon record. Then see her live – you’ll no doubt feel like you’re watching something special.