Richard Dawson, St Luke's, Glasgow ****

Newcastle songwriter Richard Dawson has emerged over the last five years as an intriguing, idiosyncratic exponent of alt-folk, writing original material in the old style, sometimes delving into long, arcane excursions embellished with post-rock and prog influences.

He has been rewarded for holding his nerve with a cult, adoring audience who lapped up (in respectful silence, of course) his epic 35-minute set opener The Hermit. Dawson carved out some plangent psych rock ambience on guitar, before being joined by his bandmates one by one – drummer Andrew Cheetham applying brush to drum, Rhodri Davies bowing his harp, Angharad Davies alternating scratchy fiddle with melodious trills and finally the jazz-toned keyboards of Sally Pilkington in what came across as a meditative group improvisation. At times, even the air conditioning was louder than the music.

Dawson then started to sing a circuitous melody in a keening tenor, rough but with its own soul, his approach being if you don't like that note progression, there will be another along in a minute. Sure enough, the suite moved into a softer and more mellifluous group harmony, a warm lullaby with particularly mesmeric work on the harp. And then their long hello was over, an impressive but still friendly statement of intent.

The next number Thicker Than Water was practically pop music, with its blithe tune, nimble rhythm and more extrovert, massed vocals, while The Fool was an agreed cacophony. Sticking with tracks from Dawson’s current album The Ruby Cord, Museum was delivered in a whimsical falsetto and the pastoral sashay of Horse and Rider became a full scenic folk waltz.

"It goes fast when you start with a really long song," remarked Dawson as he closed his odd, absorbing set with Ogre, an older, uncompromising pagan prog stomp on which he could let it all hang out.

Music review: Richard Dawson, St Luke's, Glasgow