Singer David Eugene Edwards isn't afraid of the devil, because he fears God more. He's a true Christian, but he attracts attention because of his music, a rebellious rough ragbag of influences, and because of his lyrics that are as orthodox as they are sombre. A hallelujah has never been heard from his mouth. But many a stern sermon has. That's why 16 Horsepower's sound, that is as interesting as it is literally ominous, hasn't been embraced by the EO (Dutch evangelic broadcasting company) for a Saturday late nite concert but by the VPRO (Dutch liberal broadcasting company) for its Sunday Lola da Musica show. On that program he spoke freely about the gospel's powers of growth. And about the certainty of hell for those who don't pray for remission.

16 Horsepower on the VPRO. A station of which Edwards would undoubtedly disapprove of most of its material. And in the wake of his torrent of words 16 Horsepower is also in De Telegraaf, De Volkskrant and Vrij Nederland. Not in the Christian media. For a week in March they visited the Netherlands, to promote their new album Secret South. They performed in venues like Nighttown in Rotterdam, De Harmonie in Leeuwarden, Effenaar in Eindhoven, the small auditorium of the Utrecht Vredenburg and - off all places - Hedon in Zwolle.

"In the early years I often had the impression that the audience only saw us as a bunch of freaks. But, even now they know what we stand for, they still come. Few Christians will come to the places we're playing, so maybe those other people have a stronger feeling of affinity then I had originally thought." That's what Edwards said in Vrij Nederland in March (2000).

The band 16 Horsepower has been around for 7 years. Its four members are, besides singer and guitarist David Eugene Edwards, Pascal Humbert, Steven Taylor and the French drummer Jean-Yves Tola. Both the music and the bandmember's outward appearances can't be pigeon-holed. To begin with Edwards who, with his black attire, flaxen hair and parting, looks like going to the American countryside to preach, long and hard, about penance, and in fact that is what he does. But the post-grunge tuft beneath his lower lip and the tiny earring betray today's influences, an acquaintance with post-modern urban life.

The same applies to the music. The labels on the websites and magazines were plenty. A small enumeration: neo-traditional, country-folk-blues, rural rock, authentic eclecticism, or as an American music journalist put in on the internet: rural backwood kitsch edgey off-kilter country rock.

Maybe the viewers' focus becomes clearer when we have a look into the musical instruments cabinet. The new album is very varied, both the tempi and the walls of sound. Sometimes a well-knit tapestry of bottlenecked guitars and bass, sometimes age-old, like in the magnificent rendering of the traditional Wayfaring Stranger, especially with banjo, accordion, bandoneon (a small sort of tango-accordion) then again ballads with violin, double-bass and bow or organ. There's blues, country, cajun, but also polka-rhythms and a waltz.

The themes of the songs are equally contradictory. Partly Old World, partly New World, partly Other World, the singer once said cryptically. And it is also incomprehensible that music which sounds, and is, so American is hardly noticed in the United States, whereas 16 Horsepower meets with a warm reception in The Netherlands. A Calvinistic country, you said?

David Eugene Edwards, the lead-singer and writer of nearly all the songs, is a true Christian. But he sings mainly about the devil and the inward struggle and temptation generated by the pursuit of that power. It's about yielding and asking for remission, again and again.

It's typical that the devil and God are mentioned in his lyrics, the Word and the Bible, but that the name of Jesus Christ is less prominent. 16 Horsepower give off a somewhat sombre, old-testamentarian smell.

That is not hard to understand, in view of David Eugene Edwards' descent and surroundings. He belongs (sic) to the Nazarene church, a side-branch of the American Baptists' strict wing. In his church the minister still has everything well in hand and the do-not's prevail: card-playing, make-up, intoxication, divided skirts. Commands and bans run together. The basis of this all is uncompromising biblical: the Fall of man, redemption by the dying of the Lord and then gratitude. It never really gets joyous, it is that struggle that typical of his lyrics.

Edwards dates from November 1968. He grew up with his grandfather, an itinerant Methodist preacher. Grandpa is 82 now and was present in Lola da Musica. The VPRO filmed the band in their Idledale home port, a small town near Denver, Colorado. Grandpa has no use for popmusic, grandson has, but he has in his turn estranged from the church. His father is a biker and given to drink. Only after he got leukaemia does he repent. Thankful for his illness he prays for pardon, but he dies anyway. God is good, the son reacts, when he is asked whether that fate embittered him. Whatever He wants is fine.

David Eugene Edwards tries to make it in Los Angeles, but he doesn't succeed, not in the film- and not in the music-industry. He does meet Tola in 1990. In 1995 the band releases the CD-EP Hawk (sic), followed one year later by Sackcloth 'n Ashes and in 1998 by Low Estate. As the titles show, it is mainly about the dark sides of life. Especially carnal temptations, lies and deceit and not thinking enough about the vengeful God and his themes. May you know His name and fear it. There you´re hangin' by a golden rope. There you lie, with no hope.