Despite a tardy arrival on stage and an initially poor mix, Winter People were a lovely way to commence proceedings at an already-packed Grand Hotel. With an interesting and unique set-up of having two violinists as well as two guitars, the six-piece worked their way through a set of sharp, harmony-laden baroque pop. Mixing in a strong element of folk-rock, it was also quite interesting to see the group work in a variety of other instruments such as a glockenspiel and what appeared to be a twelve-string ukulele. Though somewhat lacking in dynamics and flexibility in their sound, there's a world of potential in Winter People – they have charm, talent and a focus. The rest should come accordingly.

Armed with nothing but a keyboard and an iPhone with some programmed beats, Brisvegan Scott Spark was another revelatory act. Spark is a quirky singer-songwriter with wry, self-deprecating humour – he sings songs he describes as being about “trying to be less of an arsehole,” and plays tracks from his album titled Fail Like You Mean It . You get the idea. Although he struggled to be heard amongst the increasing chatter, Spark persevered and engaged with whomever was paying attention, joking about everything from covering “Single Ladies” to homeless buskers and delivering some sharp, intelligent and well-crafted piano pop free of any Elton-esque cheese. It wasn't exactly the right environment for Scott's music, but he can rest assured that he certainly made some new fans and new friends with his brief but enticing set.

Sydney may get her for three shows, and Melbourne may get an unbelievable five; but Megan Washington was in Wollongong for one night only. As the Grand rapidly evolved into
some kind of hipster sauna, the petite songstress emerged to an ovation
that left her speechless. And that's not just a figure of speech – her
microphone didn't work for the first few minutes of opening number
“1997.” A fitting welcome to Wollongong, indeed. Once that was all
cleared up, however, Megan and her four-piece backing band made the most
out of every minute on-stage, having plenty of fun jamming out tracks
from the impressive debut album for Ms. Washington, I Believe You Liar. “Spanish Temper” had a particular bite to its rendition, “Navy Blues” was given a sultry swing and a solo guitar rendition of the morbid ballad “Underground” even managed to stun most into silence – a true accomplishment, given the audience's rowdiness.

As a performer, Megan is unpretentious, charming and a much stronger vocalist than her recorded material may let on. She deviates from the normal sweet-and-sour melodies and howls her vocals in that vintage lady-sings-the-blues style favoured by Billie Holliday, Ella Fitzgerald et al. and, in turn, wholly invigorates the energy of the music itself. Given, Washington's style doesn't always lend itself to a high-energy pop show, but it strangely felt a lot like it at various intervals of the gig – and that is most definitely a compliment.

Some acts are lucky to have just one well-known and loved track, so for Washington to have a whopping four – all lifted from Liar – is a remarkable feat at this early stage of her career. “Clementine” was tenderly performed, with a rapturous crowd echoing her infectious “oh my darling” chorus. “Sunday Best” was peppy and lively; while “Rich Kids” gave a perfect audio-visual of poetic irony at its finest: watching hundreds of kids dancing as Megan purrs the line “I don't wanna dance with you/So please do not ask me to.” The biggest cheer, of course, was reserved for her breakthrough number – the Motown-flavoured tango of lover's revenge, “Cement.” No matter how many times she may play this song, it's hard not to get swept up in the moment when the sweeping euphoria of the chorus kicks in.

Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of the night was that just up the road at the WIN Entertainment Cetnre, Powderfinger were playing as a part of their farewell tour. As the careers of one of the biggest things in Australian music was ending, a future contender for big-deal Australian music was just getting hers started. Given the packed-out Grand wouldn't have been anywhere else, it felt good to be riding the wave of the future.