From the earnest '50s beatniks through Nick Cave and the Violent Femmes to the alt.country neo-traditionalists of the last decade, there's never been a shortage of serious young things wanting to duplicate the flavour and fervour of the high, lonesome, raw-knuckled sound of the American gospel-folk-old timey tradition. Many choose themselves for the job, in other words, but precious few are chosen.

Denver's 16 Horsepower on the other hand, whose cover of the traditional 'Wayfaring Stranger' on their latest album is as haunting as it is apposite, are about as chosen as they come. Not only do singer/songwriter/guitar, banjo and bandoneon player David Eugene Edwards' keeningly sung, scripture-soaked words spring from genuine Christian belief, but the band's ghostly, jangling, restless intensity is as fervent as the wayfaring-stranger sentiments behind it.

The title of their third and strongest album, 'Secret South', hints at nostalgia for a vanished America. Even as it incorporates more modern touches than its predecessors - 'Sackcloth And Ashes' [1996] and 'Low Estate' [1998] - in comparison to anything else being released in 2000, it's still as eerily of the pre-electric and pre-ironic past as it is of the present.

365's JENNIFER NINE (and DV cameraman/editor KEIRON FLYNN) met a solemn, friendly David Eugene Edwards and drummer and wayfaring Parisian Jean-Yves Tola, and Jennifer began by asking them whether people still find it odd that their particular kind of revivalism goes a little farther back than Hendrix...
David Eugene Edwards: "I think in America, the past is definitely something to get away from and perhaps that's the whole reason they have got away from it; they were dissatisfied with it in the first place. Everything looks better and more exciting in the future; it's always been that way. The grass is always greener. No one is satisfied with what they have. I suppose the title of the new album is about the opposite view; it's not specifically about the South, it's just about that simpler life. And as much as we look forward, everybody at one time in their lives has romanticised about living a simpler life."

Even if the past was often cruel and restrictive...
David: "Well, you know, New York City today is cruel and restrictive as well; it's just a different kind of cruelty. Living a simpler life is better, I guarantee you. I don't wish I lived 150 years ago, but that doesn't mean I'm not really attracted to a lot of things from that time. [Laughs] And I definitely think the industrial revolution was a big mistake..."

Your live show is very simple, but intense and almost otherworldly. I've seen more than one person who knows very little about the bluegrass, old-timey or mountain music roots of what you do, but who watches your set and comes away looking like he or she has seen a ghost.
David: "I think there's a collective unconscious for music as much as for anything else; things that hit you that you never really knew would hit you. Music has that effect because, whether you know it or not, those memories are somewhere in you and once you see and hear it, you think, 'Boy, this is actually reaching me and I don't even know why'."

Which can also make people uncomfortable: along with the critical praise you have attracted, some have assumed that what you do - from the use of old-fashioned instruments alongside electric ones, to the religious references, to the occasional traditional cover - must be schtick.
David: "Sure. But people are constantly running from the past, and disguising their fear of what they're running from by looking only for what's new and different, but it never really works because the past is always there. People are the same now as they were back then... different things surface and some things become more important than other things at different times and as history changes, but people don't change. People have been the same forever."
Jean-Yves Tola: "I am a very good example of that. I am not American; I grew up in France. But it doesn't mean that when I hear very traditional American music, it doesn't affect me almost as strongly as it does David, because it's still part of me somewhere."

Your last album, 'Low Estate', was recorded in a Louisiana swamp with PJ Harvey collaborator John Parish. Tell us about the oddly named Hamilton Glory Lodge, the place where you recorded and produced 'Secret South'.
David: "It was great, a lot of fun. We just rented a big lodge, a big log building in Blue River, Colorado, about two hours from Denver, up in the mountains. It's a church retreat building during the ski season; different Christian groups from all over the US rent it. It's a big place, so it was perfect for us. We were surrounded by shag pile, actually; it was very '70s, because that's when it had last been decorated, so we built a floor of wood for the drums in one room."

The album begins with a song called 'Clogger', and you do your fair share of pounding shoes on wooden boards, onstage, yourself, when you're not sitting down on a stool with a mandolin. What is it about you and clogs, then?
David: "I don't know, actually. [Laughs] I just find it a good metaphor for things... and I love flooring. I love wood."

Did you do a lot of clog dancing when you were growing up?
David: "I've never danced. It was pretty much against the rules. You didn't do that sort of dancing. Nobody danced - nobody that I grew up with, anyhow. I think it's the music itself which has created whatever has attracted me to it. Obviously you've got to have the music before you have the dance. It's just a certain type of music. Music which makes you want to move, which causes you to move that sort of way. Fairly stiff, but happy at the same time. It's controlled; it's not complete abandon."

You have said that life growing up with your grandfather, who was a Nazarene preacher, was quite rigid. Some people might imagine that in such an environment, family dynamics would be more about punishment than affection. Did you still feel loved?
David: "I think you feel love all the more in these situations than you do if it's all kind of free and easy. I think the fact that when you have somebody who really follows a certain path, and really sticks with it, and at the same time loves you even though you don't follow that path yourself, that means a lot. You know that the love is serious. You know that the love is real. It's a torrential experience. It's so much harder to love someone that you don't agree with."

You've grown up with The Bible as the living Word - as opposed to a literary source or a half-remembered phrase or two - and it turns up frequently in your writing. This album's no exception, from 'Burning Bush' to the references to a good shepherd and lost lamb in 'Cinderalley'. Do you ever feel that by using God's word in your songs, you risk using it too casually?
David: "I guarantee you I'm using it too casually. It's far more important than anyone realises; words themselves are more important than anybody realises. Yeah. I'm sure I'm guilty of it, over and over. But the word of God is the word of God. It doesn't matter if you say it lightly, if you say it in anger, if you say it with love. It doesn't matter: however you say it, the truth is the truth whether you put it on a rock or under a rock. I try to just tell it truthfully without using it for selfish ambition."

As a writer, does God's word act as a spur to creativity?
David: "Sure. God is a Creator, and he gives us the same ability to be creative and to find the goodness in everything in all different sorts of ways. His word is different for every person but it's the same. Creativity is a wonderful thing; it's like that Emmylou Harris song about the deeper well; that's what it's about. You know, everyone says that religion is boring, church is boring and it's all just a big set of rules, but in fact, it's more creative than anything you're seeking out that you think is attractive and is going to satisfy you."

'Secret South' features some fine fiddle performances by your twelve-year-old daughter, Asher Edwards. Did you plan to have the family on the record or did it just happen?
David: "Oh, no, I've been planning it for a long time. [Laughs] Yup, I'm breeding them over at home!"
Jean: "Asher's a great player. I remember talking to David on the phone and hearing some really wonderful violin music in the background. I asked what record David was listening to, and he told me it was his daughter. I said, right, she's on! Just get her ready!"
David: "Families are so important, and there's nothing better than being with your family and creating something with your family. They keep you down to earth and keep you a real person... particularly if you tend toward thinking you're more important than you are."

Plenty of rock performers give the impression that admitting to loving your wife, as many of your songs do, or even admitting to having a family, is just not cool.
David: "Oh, I know, but having a [rock and rolI] image is definitely not what we're after. [Laughs] But, yeah, I've known people who have left their wives just because they wanted to play music, and because they've figured 'It's never going to happen to me if I stick with my family.' I know people like that, and they're still trying to make it, and on top of that, they don't have their wives or families any more either. You might get a record contract, but you lose what really matters."

Sixteen Horsepower's latest album, 'Secret South', is out on Glitterhouse on March 27th.