Iron and Wine

What seems like the entirety of Edinburgh's music cognoscenti has squeezed themselves into The Venue on the eve of the US Election tonight to catch a rare UK appearance from Iron & Wine. When they shuffle on stage, the eclectic crowd, which included the hardcore of the city's skateboarding community, a lot of scruffy-looking long-hairs with beards, hundreds of pale, indie superstars and erm, one of Scotland's premier long-distance runners, all cheer like goons. Which might seem surprising seeing as the band consists of a bearded man in a cardigan, a hippy with a banjo and a nice-looking lady who reminded me of my mum.

But, kicking off with the best opening line to a gig I've ever heard, "_Poppa died smiling_", they have the crowd purring from the start. The surprisingly sensitive voice of singer-songwriter Sam Beam is the keystone of their Drake/Smith/Oldham-tinged sound, and he somehow manages to sound like he's tuning into a broadcast from another planet.

As the set goes on, there are bigger and bigger cheers for each number, especially for Mercury-Rev-in-slide-guitar-mode 'Mr.Soul' and 'Free Until', the sound of The White Stripes holding their tempers. Shades of Polly Harvey even manage to sneak in on 'Faded From The Winter'. As we all bundle out from the cozy timewarp that Beam and his buddies have managed to create for a while, even the cold November night cannot chill the hot glow inside. Warm simplicity has never sounded so cool.