I join the small but growing number of people sitting on the floor and waiting. It's a long time since I have done that at a gig and I wonder who the crowd are. I'm impressed by the Luminaire, by the comically stern signs that warn that this is not a place for chatting, that the live music comes first. And amongst the crowd I'm reassured by the number of Converse Allstar's on people's feet in amongst the preponderance towards, shall we say, sensible shoes. It's relaxed and friendly, the right side of taking itself seriously.

Musee Mecanique are Sean Ogilvie and Micah Rabwin. Tonight they are part of a three act lineup, and will later on reappear onstage behind Laura Gibson.



They are ostensibly touring in favour of their album "Hold This Ghost," already out the other side of the Atlantic and not due its European release until February. Everything tonight comes from that album.

Named quite literally in favour of an actual museum of mechanical oddities, Musée Mécanique tell us they are from Portland Oregon but have found themselves tonight by some circuitous route to the Luminaire in Kilburn. Last night was Manchester, oh the glamour and the six-hour drive. A scarce few days before that, the other side of London in Brixton, where they tell a tale with wonder of being able to buy fish, chips, pizza and pasta all in the same shop. You Americans are easily dazzled by our smooth culinary ways.

They start, I grab a few photos and then find myself becoming immersed in music. Soothing with bells on. Well, not bells exactly, but the dulcet chimes of one of those packable xylophones. The lyrics tell of "the things that I know - the winter came and passed away - she sent her letters far away - they arrived today." This isn't meant as some sort of tourist guide, but those lyrics give a good indication of what you will find if you come exploring Musée Mécanique. A world, if not quite set in aspic, then describing some romantic and archaic view of the world when seasons were marked by the currency of correspondence. I find that I have scribbled the words 'gently, rolling, strumming' on my ticket receipt.

At this early point there is little more than two acoustic guitars and duetted vocals. I know this is hardly a hostile audience, but the effect on those listening - rapt is the word that best comes to mind.

As it progresses, Sean and Micah swap back and forth, taking turns behind the keyboard. Up till here in the set they have been a very stripped back and barebones version of their recorded selves, and quite compelling for all that. 'Sleeping In Our Clothes' now brings brings the fullest sound so far, lead vocal and guitar joined by a plaintive keyboard, accordion and kick drum. My little bit of knowledge of American music is a dangerous thing, but despite their obvious West Coast credentials this has a feeling somewhere between Cajun and Appalachian. Perhaps that's a lazy comparison, entirely down to the squeezebox. I find myself doing that thing, that thing I don't like, of wondering how I could describe what they sound like. Vocally, I suppose it's the male voice duet, but they are not a million miles from some early, pre-commercial manifestation of Simon and Garfunkel. That's not quite right though, these two are more authentic, more concerned with the truth and less with the happy whimsical end of the market.

Another song, another swap onstage. I notice the minor buzz of an effects box bringing a touch of modernity. I'm almost surprised by how barebones it is tonight, given that in the studio they do not eschew something akin to a folk version of drone. It works though, drawing the audience in to quite a remarkable level of concentration and appreciation. We are somehow forced down into the layers and fundamentals of the music, to breathe it in, dust and all. The next track now sings of "folk songs on our tongues." This conjures up just what they are, wandering latter-day troubadours. And that was it, over all too soon.

What worked about tonight was that, apart from the briefest check to make sure that it was not going to be totally off my radar, and despite their ten year history, I had not listened to Musée Mécanique before. That can be a hard test, but on this occasion I came out fairly entranced, deep in contemplation on the train home.

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