There was an air of home�coming about this concert. Although she�s very much the Yorkshire lass, Eliza Carthy lived in or around Edinburgh for 10 years before moving back down south and half the audience, or so it seemed, had been part of her music and/or social circle.

Star rating ***
There was an air of homecoming about this concert. Although she's very much the Yorkshire lass, Eliza Carthy lived in or around Edinburgh for 10 years before moving back down south and half the audience, or so it seemed, had been part of her music and/or social circle.

Seven of those years, or at least the days and nights when not touring in her own right or with her parents, were spent working on her latest album, Dreams of Breathing Underwater, which provided the joint focus here with Carthy's imminent motherhood.

Hearty warnings were given about possible pee stops and children being born with a passionate dislike of the melodeon as Carthy sipped water and shared memories of enthusiastic intake of some, and not so enthusiastic intake of other, strong drinks. She's quite the storyteller, and all of these songs, mostly self-penned but drawing on strong English roots as well as various international folk, rock and ska influences, have histories featuring chancers, romancers and, apparently, perverts in ill-starred love.

Accompanied by her band consisting of accordion/piano, cello, double-bass and drums, and including at strategic points the Bevvy Sisters trio of backing vocalists, Carthy sings with gutsy Yorkshire relish, adding fiddle and, briefly, the aforementioned melodeon and driving the rocking Follow the Dollar with grungy tenor guitar. The music treads a fine line between well-ordered dynamism and a looser, beery lurch, and, if it strays into rather aimless instrumental padding occasionally, it's redeemed by Carthy's gallus personality and her ability to flit from folky balladeer to art song chanteuse to, on Oranges and Seasalt, a sassy band show belter.