It’s easy to take one listen to Daughter’s “Landfill” and write Elena Tonra off as an overly emotional girl pining over her last breakup. Yet when Daughter came through Boston on Friday night, she proved that expectation wrong. In nearly every way, the expectations and realities of a live Daughter show contrasted. Here’s how:

Expectation: A crowd full of heartsick teenage girls.

Reality: I walked into the Royale to a surprising mix of males and females. All excitedly whispered to one another, “Were you at the Sinclair show?” As Tonra took the stage, 20-something-year-old men surrounded me. I had a hard time picturing some of these guys sitting at home listening to the London trio’s latest LP If You Leave, but, lo-and-behold, they knew every single word.

Expectation: Hearing lines like, “I want you so much, but I hate your guts” would turn into cheesy and cringe-worthy sing-a-long moments.

Reality: The atmosphere felt eerily similar to an XX show, which came as no surprise as both acts have worked alongside producer Rodaidh McDonald. Though Tonra writes about being broken, she is able to stew a crowd to sing these lines in a way that gives them power. Hearing hundreds utter the closing lines, “And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one, because most of us are bitter over someone,” from “Youth” sent chills up my spine to finish off the main set.

Expectation: Slow songs would be played even slower, taking longer pauses to draw out the emotion.

Reality: While the XX significantly slows down their (already mellow) songs for their live shows, Daughter does quite the opposite. Tempos are noticeably faster and I had to pause to adjust to hearing songs this way. When listening to the records at home, time swells. Live, I felt like someone pressed the fast-forward button and couldn’t understand why.

Expectation: Seeing a performer cry on stage would make him or her look weak.

Reality: Tonra had to restart “Smother” three times. Yet through the tears and bashful nervous giggling – she never once seemed weak or fragile. The audience roared cheers of support and she got through it. By the end of the song she held the venue in silence for the first time. No rude and thundering conversations echoing from the bar – everyone was fixated on her (and that’s no easy feat).

Expectation: Nobody can cover Daft Punk and get away with it.

Reality: Nope, they did it.