IT'S easy to understand, quite apart from the export potential and the rock 'n' roll kudos, why Danish songwriters would prefer to write lyrics in English rather than their native language.

I mean, put yourself in Trinelise Vaering’s shoes: would you want to sing “She’s got bones in her nose” in Danish – it could equally be legs in her nose, apparently, as the literal translations are interchangeable – when you could be much more worldly and succinct with “She’s got balls”?

Women with balls and characters with, well, character figure largely in Offpiste Gurus’ repertoire. Their songs – Vaering writes the words and the resourceful Fredrik Lundin, as well as playing baritone, tenor and soprano saxophones, writes the music – tend towards the darker side, the best of them sounding not unlike Brecht & Weill gone rock or Jacques Brel in Amsterdam mode, if without quite the same lurid detail, but with added Americana flavours.

The opening Checkout Girl puts our heroine in an adventure with a highway patrolman that plays out, both lyrically and melodically, like an updated Appalachian ballad and a further country-accented tale tells of a mother and child fleeing the family home with much awkward consoling on the mother’s part.

Vaering’s a good frontwoman and an admirable singer who can mix the darkness with ironic humour, and the songs are well served by a tight guitar, bass and drums team and Lundin’s creative riffing. The growling guitar and sax accompaniment to Vaering’s wry assertion that growing up is a lifelong project was particularly effective, although the solo spots on these instruments later rather overstayed their welcome.