Queen's Hall, Edinburgh

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Rob Adams

We've long since become used to musicians selling CDs from the stage. But commercials for own-label tequila haven't, so far from your reviewer's experience, become the norm at gigs. If they do, Lissie will be a pioneer.

The singer-songwriter from Illinois who has managed the feat of becoming known by a single name, a diminutive of Elisabeth, didn't share how she came to have a drink named in her honour, but she did have a shot with the audience member who won the raffle.

If this sounds more like a folk club gig than a performance that might well be a staging post on the way to stadium-filling status, then there were some elements of folksiness.

The ballad Oh Mississippi would work easily on acoustic guitar and the oh oh oh-ing Little Lovin' - one of several songs that used this syllable effectively with the audience - begins with some sympathetic sentiments directed towards Appalachian farmers.

Elements of other vernacular music - gospel for example - also show in Lissie's songwriting, but despite professing that she'd rather be shameless than famous in one of the night's strongest songs, Lissie sounds like someone who's spotted her place in the market and is going for it.

Although her subject matter isn't always as clear as her raw-throated, pumping right-hand conviction, her music is well produced, with a resourceful band featuring guitarist Eric Sullivan, Lewis Keller, doubling on bass guitar and basic drum kit, and Jesse Siebenberg, on drums, keys and lap steel guitar, offering both full rockin' support and a variety of sounds and colours.

Lissie herself works hard but, on first exposure, her material generally was more easily admired than remembered.