On the intro tape, Johnny Cash's austerely remorseless "The Man Comes Around" sets the mood, then Colin MacIntyre's men come pounding out of the traps. For this mini tour, the school choir, feather boa and inflatable sheep of previous expeditions have been packed away, in favour of frill-free punk aggression.
One of the oddest gigs I've seen in a long time. The weathered Leven sings mournful songs of loss and regret in a rich, soulful voice. He's a big poetry man, quoting Pablo Neruda on his new album Shining Brother Shining Sister. Yet, more often than he's being a melancholic, working-class minstrel, he's being a man of the people in an entirely different manner. For at least half his time onstage, he tells bawdy shaggy dog stories.
It's over a decade since former actor Will Oldham took his first faltering steps in a forgotten backwater of American music. When Oldham began recording with his brother Paul in 1992 he was recovering from a nervous breakdown, staking out an area that provided a refuge for his skewed, haunted but unusually perceptive sensibility.
