It’s not often that Melburnians are eager to escape the first warm, sunny Sundays of summer to a dark bandroom, but when Jordie Lane is playing, they make an exception.

In the last of his Melbourne shows to promote new single, “Fool for Love,” Lane was joined by long time friend and collaborator, Liz Stringer, and new friend, Al Parkinson.

Jordie Lane wouldn’t be the only friend Al Parkinson made that day. With her laidback demeanour and charming banter, she is nothing short of endearing – and that’s before singing a note.

Her bluesy, soulful voice is not what you expect from this casual girl in jeans, and it has the crowd transfixed from start to end.

For such a cheerful person, Parkinson’s heartfelt songs are often of love lost or unrequited.

“All of my songs make it seem like I’m really unlucky in love,” she quips but assures the crowd that it isn’t really the case.

Frequently interacting with people in the crowd, including Jack Carty (“a beautiful musician”), it’s clear that this loveable songbird has a bevy of loyal fans that grows with each performance.

She ends her set with “Like This”, an ode to that person who improves your day just by being there. It’s a gorgeous song whose meaning could apply to its creator and the lucky few in the audience.

It’s nice to hear musicians who are such big fans of each other, and Ms Parkinson is earnest in describing her support slot as “a bit of a dream.”

The feeling, it seems, is mutual, as Liz Stringer sums Parkinson up when she graces the stage: “Every now and then someone special comes along, and I think she’s one of them.”

Stringer is pretty special herself. No stranger to the stage, the room was almost full when her turn came around.

There is a warmth about her that has the venue’s gathered hanging off every word, apologising for her voice being even huskier than usual – “I’ve had a big weekend.”

Giggling at her own jokes, her set is laden with anecdotes that lend themselves to her story-telling style of songwriting. From tales of time in the Kimberley to the frank “It’s a Long Way Down”, where she sings of midweek drinking-turned-alcoholism in a completely relatable way.

Not just a master of lyrics, Stringer’s voice is hard to forget. Raspy yet rich, it’s perfectly suited to Bobby Charles’ “I Must Be In A Good Place Now” which she warns, “will make you wanna sit down.”

They don’t sit, but the crowd certainly paid attention as she expertly wielded her guitar and calmly crooned. A standout from her fourth album, “Warm In The Darkness”, the tear-jerking “High Open Hills” is a perfect end to a beautiful set.

Sporting an emerald green suede jacket and his signature akubra, Melbourne’s own Jordie Lane and band were warmly received.

Launching straight into their lively, bluegrass-tinged folk, and it isn’t until “War Rages On” that Lane indulged in the repartee that he is known for.

It’s surprising that this gem from 2009’s “Sleeping Patterns” nearly wasn’t recorded. Born out of 7,000 photos taken in Vietnam, Lane dedicated it to lovers of Instagram everywhere.

His vocal prowess is evident in “Not From Round Here”, as he holds a note for an impressive amount of time, his vibrato as strong as ever.

Vocalist Clare Reynolds joins on backing vocals and keys for the rest of the gig, complete with fox fur hat and Redskin-stained tongue. Sucking on the red lolly in between songs, Lane jokes “we’re a pretty crazy band.”

There was a slightly self-deprecating plug for merch (“we recorded live to about 25 people … you can hear my Dad there”) after treating the crowd to “Fool For Love”. The production on this track is a lot bigger than his previous work, and the dominance of keys is refreshing.

In an attempt to make up for being quieter than usual, the adept raconteur reflected on a soldier he met on tour in Townsville.

It is no surprise that with the following song, he managed to bring the aggressive pub-goer to tears back in 2006. “I Could Die Looking At You” is nothing short of a modern Australian classic, and a fine example of Lane’s wisdom beyond his years; written at just 21.

Stripped of his band, it is in this environment that he shines, and his grateful crowd are captivated as the final notes ring out.