By 22.30 in the former railwaystation at the Charles-gate in Heidelberg: From the smoky mist of the deep stage four dark figures wind their way to the edge of the stage. With the first tones of the opening song "Silver Saddle" the foursome makes it clear, that tonight it's about despair, sin and sadness. Singer David Edwards sits on his tabouret and is crying his heart out. "Tonight you've caught your breath. You've lost your American spirit. If only I could catch my death yeah. Just give me long enough to fear it." The horror spreads. 16 Horsepower is somewhat like the prophets of the old testament. Amos, Jeremiah and Elijah cross my mind, when I hear David Edwards howl against an invisible wall. To his left is Rumpelstiltskin Pascal Humbert and he digs himself in his gigantic double-bass. The Frenchmen provides the deep range - the flats - for the singer's words. For that purpose the Frenchmen is bending and rocking around the mighty wooden contraption. 16 Horsepower in concert is much deeper than in the studio. To David Edwards right stands quiet Steven Taylor. The guitarist and keyboard-player is, together with drummer Jean-Yves Tola, something like the relaxed counterpoise. Behind the drums, on a raised platform in the background, sits gentleman Tola in white shirt and waistcoat. Sensitive and fragile he sneaks into the songs. No trace of power-devouring percussion poundings.

This way the four men play, each man for himself, without mutual communication. Still the instruments and voices become one. They understand each other blindly. Then David Edwards puts away the guitar and places the bandoneon on his knees. The accordion's smaller brother brings out a new quality to the concert. With its repetitive figures the songs are careering straight to hell like they're on an express train. The bandoneon chases away the last remains of mirth and stifles the atmosphere. Now Edwards picks up the electric banjo. "Every man is evil, and every man is a liar. And unashamed with the wicked tongues sing in the black soul choir."

The banjo is an indication. 16 Horsepower make use of country, but folk too. However, it is not a country-band. For they rework American folklore so long until it becomes their dark music. When Edwards for instance puts a bottleneck on his finger, that has got nothing at all to do with kitschy dulcimer romanticism. It rather sounds like the soul of a guitar in agony. A few centimetres higher, tangly hair saturated with sweat, is flying about wildly. With his mouth the singer-prophet pushes the second microphone in place, because for the megaphone parts a second "shouting appliance" is at his disposal. This way the American holds a dialogue with himself. Meanwhile, in the background, a young blonde female fiddler appears out of (a misty) nothing, and with smooth tones tries to appease us. Yet the stringed instrument misses its mark. Edwards jolts and shakes until his strength begins to fail him. Switching between the two microphones poses problems for the singer. As he has no free hand, he bows, askew, towards the microphone-stand or he pulls the equipment back and forth with his head. Then it is finished. David Edwards crosses himself, blesses the audience and disappears for a short break, and appears again with his fellow bandmembers for the last encore. This song is a revolt against exhaustion. 16 Horsepower gave everything. Very tired but content they exit stage and leave the choir of 400 black souls to themselves.

Pictures courtesy of Rrabauke, Chris.