Gillian Welch

Grand Canal Theatre, Dublin

Populating the novels of realist-noir writer Daniel Woodrell are a motley collection of people so innately evil ­ and vulnerable – you’d wonder do they exist at all except in the corners of his mind.

Yet here they are again in the music of American songwriter Gillian Welch (above) and her associate David Rawlings – characters that make your skin creep and crawl. Their godforsaken lives, blighted by grievous misdemeanours, mistakes, poverty, alcoholism and drug addiction, are highlighted by the singers in as sparse a manner as you can imagine.

The Grammy-nominated pair might be playing in a new-fangled grand ole opry-style venue, but this is as pretty as it gets: a pitch-black backdrop, two plainly attired people, a few acoustic instruments, parallel harmonies, and sad, sad songs.

The tempo alters from a slow heartbeat to a rapid quickening of the pulse (the latter occurs, in particular, when Rawlings pulls off one breathtakingly brilliant guitar-picking solo after another), while light relief comes from the easy chemistry between the performers. Songs such as Scarlet Town, Dark Turn of the Mind, Tennessee, The Way the Whole Thing Endsand That's the Way it Will Be(from this year's The Harrow the Harvest), Tear my Stillhouse Down(from 1996's Revival), Elvis Presley Blues, Revelator(from 2001's Time [The Revelator]) and Wayside/Back in Time(from 2003's Soul Journey) recall a kind of purity, intimacy and honesty that is as old as the hills their damaged song characters live in.

The evening wraps up with a few covers ­ Neil Young's Pocahontas, Jackson(rendered more Cash & Carter than Hazelwood & Sinatra), and Jefferson Airplane's psychedelic nugget White Rabbit.

Welch and Rawlings exit stage left, rapturous applause ringing in their ears. Unlike some characters from the novels of Daniel Woodrell, it seems they were meant for this world.