For years, crowds have been puzzling over David Eugene Edwards' need to exorcise the collective ghosts of his captive audience. But only now, devoid of his band mates, does the truth come forth. It's David's own ghosts that he's trying to release. Yes, Lord. The man is possessed.

Dressed all in black, save a silver crucifix and shock of blonde hair, Edwards' eyes roll and flick with suspicious intent. Partner Daniel McMahon cuts a muse-like figure as he probes, pipes and plucks anonymously by Edwards' side.

Horsepower classics Straw Foot and Black Soul Choir and the traditional Wayfaring Stranger are stripped bare. Their fleshless bones resonate within the Borderline's hallowed walls like a bullet in a tin but stand as testament to the strength of songwriting breaking from the unstable mind of Edwards. New tracks such as My Russia and Hotel Montana drop into the set effortlessly and could sit comfortably on any Horsepower record.

Silhouetted by sporadic bursts of ethereal bulbs and stained glass templates, Edwards and McMahon, never exchange a word. Seems this is par for tonight's course. The crowd have retracted from their usual role of a heckling, brawling mass to one of an entranced and silently respectful minority who've stumbled upon something secret and special and are keeping it to themselves.

By Nathan Hull

(And this is what the NME said)