Such is the world that Florence Welch inhabits these days. Easily one of the biggest pop stars in this part of the world at the moment, she has reached that status on the back of an album of genuinely odd music and imagery, not to mention real substance. Lady Gaga she is not. Her Cosmic Love tour (of which this is the opening night) is the both the final outing for the album as a live show and her entry into the big league in terms of ticket sales and venues.

And Dublin is up for it. Boy, is Dublin up for it. The Olympia is a constant wall of noise throughout, on the singles, key album tracks and lesser known numbers.  For the first few songs, however, it feels as if the emotional input is just a little one sided. Although ‘Howl’ is a stunning, dramatic opener but over the course of the next twenty minutes we get a lot of Florence throwing shapes, hitting her mark but crucially very little that actually engages. It is worryingly reminiscent of the stage school wannabes who parade on our TV screens every weekend in search of their big break in the West End and bizarrely enough we begin to yearn for a little more of your average rock ‘n’ roll gig.

Then, thankfully, she takes her shoes off. Only a small detail maybe but once freed from her six inch stilettos, the old, slightly chaotic Florence comes back to us. The posing is gone, replaced by a slightly ungainly enthusiasm that is utterly endearing. As is the singer herself, addressing the adoring masses in the manner of a posh primary school teacher. Hell, she even gets away with describing this as part of her UK tour.

The truth is that a little Florence goes a long way. Every song does carry the same hallmarks – her unique vocals, the echoing drums and ubiquitous harp – and, with her band happy to remain in the shadows, she is left to carry the show on her own. Which means an awful lot of skipping and enthusing, especially over an hour and half set. When she gets it right, however, the results are stunning. The big tunes that have built her reputation are all present and correct, introducing the parity between performer and audience that was missing at the start. ‘Cosmic Love’ is dreamingly epic, ‘Drumming Song’ powerful and ‘The Dog Days Are Over’ a riotous conclusion that sees her up on top the speaker stacks, singing to the Olympia’s ornate boxes. Most encouraging of all is the one new song on offer, ‘Strangeness and Charm’, which clocks in at over five minutes but is riveting throughout, features less harp and more electric guitar and seems to inspire her by virtue of its sheer newness.

She comes back to dive head first into the crowd on a rough and ready ‘Kiss With A Fist’ before a closing things up with ‘Rabbit Heart’. Except she’s not quite done. Standing alone on the stage, seemingly overawed by the audience reaction, she tosses her drum stick into the crowd and glides off – only to return to admonish the punters who start fighting over it and make sure that it goes home with the right person. Florence Welch needs to keep changing if she’s  going to fulfil her potential as one of this century’s most enduring artists but there are some elements we hope she never loses.