In spite of him being in his early thirties, Darren Hanlon is the embodiment of that wonderful old-person phrase “they don’t make ‘em like they used to”. Unassuming and faintly daggy, Darren seems like some faded sepia idea of a pop musician untouched by any idea of modernity. Maybe it’s a product of a rural Queensland upbringing, but Darren and his music come from a hazy time somewhere between 60s folk and 70s AM radio, a world where punk might’ve happened in some distant place, where synths are strange and alien.

As worlds go, it’s an inviting one, due in no small part to Darren’s own charms. On stage, Darren carries himself with an amiable charisma, never commanding the stage so much as looking slightly shocked that it’s his. Between songs, his gentle wit and knack for storytelling create an intimate atmosphere perfect for charming the pants off an audience. Some take this intimacy as license to call out for songs, but for the most part the crowd was rapt.

Though he’s handy with a chord progression, Darren’s real power lies in his deft lyrics, slipping neat little rhymes and cute wordplay into carefully observed stories. Performing a new song about, in his own words, “the most mundane thing [he] could think of”, Darren proved himself a natural raconteur, turning the act of waiting for a bus into an event worth noticing.

Such small moments are Darren’s bread and butter. His little vignettes about town locals are among his best moment: his description of old men licking cigarette papers looking “like a harmonica band” in "Manilla NSW" is among his most vivid images.

This evening’s show was marred slightly by volume issues, with the force of the band distracting from Darren’s lyrics. The crowd, anxious to sing along at first, became self-conscious and quiet. That act of singing along has been a key element in previous shows, and it felt a little alienating to be put off. It’s not exactly Dylan-goes-electric, but it was disappointing, especially given that Darren’s music isn’t improved by being loud.

In spite of this, though, Darren’s understated grace as a performer made the night a success, as did the very talented backing band. His emphasis on material from I Will Love You At All at the expense of older songs might’ve disappointed, but for the fact that he broke with tour habit and played the jaunty little fan favourite "Punk’s Not Dead". That little unexpected bonus was a lovely way to thank the crowd for their enthusiasm, and the audience lapped it up.