PopJustice Deluxe Edition ft Ace Wilder, Indiana and Amelia Lily

I'm not a fan of The Basement venue, but PopJustice and co are still churning out amazing ('Amazing') line ups for these Deluxe Edition nights and I've got a feeling that my loyalty card will get stamped up before too long. I caught the last two songs of Rashelle, who teamed with the theme of her hot as hell guitarist in matching baseball caps. She's a working definition of hot mess, but in those few minutes I managed to regret not braving the humungous getting in queue. I was waiting outside for friends and managed to miss M.O, but I did see them last time at PJDE so don’t feel so bad. Which meant Ace Wilder, of (busy busy) Busy Doing Nothing (at all) Eurovision fame was next. Obviously the hit was the last thing they played to rapturous audience applause, but their short and sweet set including Do It and a dubious but fun track that went along this lines of “bitches like Friday” couldn't be ruined by the obtrusive camera man hell bent on capturing all of her well practised moves.

Then came on Amelia Lily. Oh my. It was an amazing performance, as one friend cruelly noted "a bit like watching one S Club 7 perform”, with the added grim audience participation of sing alongs and hands in the air. Opening with Shut Up And Give Me Whatever You Got (technical issues) she professionally battled through the sound issues which were rectified in time for a baffling karaoke rendition of We Found Love. What I really loved about Amelia Lily’s performance was her steely grim determination to keep things going and to entertain the crowd. She started riffing between songs “I’ve been awake 17 hours!” and in regards to her glittery gold hairdo, “Do you like my hair? It’s dead hard”. My favourite bit of the whole show was that bit in her new single California where the music cuts out and she brays “you're full of shit”. It's these moments of class that I love, and with that glitter she could be the UK's answer to Ke$ha one day. One day.

I'll be a bit honest, as reviewers aren't want to do about these things, and concede that I was getting a bit drunk by the time Indiana came on. And she was not there to get the party started, delivering sophisticated multi-instrumental electro pop, singing with a husky affectation that wavered between Lana Del Rey and Sinead O'Connor. After all the high-octane electro pop of the evening, it came as a bit of a wet slap, though I imagine I'm going to fall in love with Indiana in the sobering light of day.