The rain drove down in unrelenting sheets one Thursday in late September, rolling off the vaulted roof of Whelan’s, one of Dublin’s most distinctive live music venues. Sodden jackets were shed; cold but eager fingers reached for pints in plastic cups. When Nick Mulvey, the man of the hour, appeared onstage nursing a mug of tea, cheers broke out across the crowd. Ripples of excitement endered the miserable weather irrelevant.

I hadn’t actually been to Whelan’s until last week. I’d always prided myself on being a seasoned gig-goer, having travelled the length and breadth of the city for gigs, from the Pepper Canister Church to the very tip of Howth and back again. But it was never really an accolade I could lay claim to until I’d been there, to Whelan’s, to such an iconic landmark of the Irish music scene.

It was smaller than I had expected, but the room was heavy with an air of excitement. It reminded me of some of the smaller venues I’ve visited, particularly in Seattle, like the Columbia City Theatre; the very walls seemed to breathe music. Enclosed and pyramidal, the walls and glass ceiling of Whelan’s seemed to trap and amplify every sound.This could be a good thing or a bad thing – it risks heightening any awkward silences, every cough and sneeze heard by all. Something about the architecture and layout of the building swallows up the sound and returns it tenfold. In this case however, the intimacy of Whelan’s, and this amplification of every sound was very much a benefit. Mulvey himself at one point during his second set (more on that later), described the venue as “intense”, saying he had forgotten what the experience of playing there was like, before quipping that the audience should “try it sometime”.

It is understandable why the experience of playing at Whelan’s may be considered more overwhelming than other gigs. Mulvey’s voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling, while the harmonising hum of the audience filled the belly of the room. The resulting effect was close to indescribable. After the show I heard someone else describe it as “an almost religious experience”, something I would readily agree with. Mulvey’s music has always had a profound effect on me. There’s nothing that sparks my creativity like putting on my headphones and blaring First Mind (Mulvey’s debut album). Live, however, the experience was unparalleled. It was synaesthetic. The music swelled and filled you from tip to toe. It pressed against your skin, alive with electricity.

Mulvey is known for his awe-inspiring skill on guitar. This tour, being an acoustic solo tour, is designed to facilitate the playing of as many songs as possible. Rather than feature a support act, Mulvey himself plays two sets, separated by a fifteen minute interval. The result is a high intensity gig, cut across occasionally by Mulvey’s distinct wit. We were entertained with stories of Mulvey getting “ridiculously stoned by the River Lee”, and of “gobbling a bag of mushrooms” in the English countryside and settling down to write tracks for his latest album, Mountain to Move. Because of the fact that he played two whole sets (and an encore), Mulvey was able to draw from both his albums and his EPs. He was able to draw out songs and experiment with harmonies with the audience. Mulvey is an incredible talent, with fluttering and lightning-fast fingers. He draws deep and layered sounds from the guitar, the likes of which I had never seen before. It was honestly a privilege to see him play live. Mulvey at one point held up his hand, referring to each of his fingers individually as his bass, strings, horns and more. We, the audience, watched in awe as he got lost in the songs and began improvising, taking them to new heights and levels as he switched up the melodies. The added stage time also allows Mulvey the chance to preface certain songs with a relevant story, or to explain the influences of Congolese folk-songs and Mexican riffs on his pieces.

The crowd, as always, had the ability to make or break the show. When Mulvey started, a hushed silence immediately fell. Everyone was spellbound, watching with bated breath. At the end of the first song, Mulvey prompted us to sing along, and the spell was broken. A ripple of energy rolled throughout the crowd; he had lit a spark that quickly grew to illuminate the whole of Whelan’s. Mulvey doesn’t have an unusually large following, but they are dedicated. Everyone there knew every album and EP cover to cover. The audience supplied the underlying harmonies of the songs, voices joining with Mulvey’s to incredible effect.

Mulvey is, I would argue, one of the most talented guitarists and songwriters alive. I’d always thoroughly enjoyed his music, but following last Thursday – one of the best gig experiences of my life – he has gone up even further in my estimation. It’s not often I say this, but I could have listened to him all night… and not just because of the lashing rain outside.

For any guitarists out there (or anyone who just wants to see what I’ve been talking about), Mulvey hosts regular guitar lessons on his Instagram story, teaching his songs in painstaking detail, and later posting these videos to Youtube.