INDIANA has no hip people. There's no water in Tucson. So there. On such geographical evidence does Carrie Newcomer build her repertoire. Using just their acoustic guitars and voices, Newcomer and her partner produced an opening set of pleasingly self-contained songs, warmly sung and carefully played, if a touch mawkish at times. I liked her tales of fishing with her dad (I use a rod myself) and who could resist the logic of a song ''called I Should Have Known Better because I should have''? Ha.

Logic and tidy music were the order of the night, of course, because in Alison Krauss and Union Station's quietly smouldering bluegrass you won't find a hair out of place. They've been here before and boy were they pleased to be back. So pleased were they that their intimations of pleasure lasted longer than some of their tunes and were nowhere near as concise, but with such friendly presentation, that's forgivable.

Since that last appearance Krauss has added several layers of self-assurance, with an irresistible line in gormless bumpkin chat. Her voice has also gained in presence. Fragile on the surface, it is in fact soft, strong and capable of sustained, goosebump-inspiring flights over the duvet-warm accompaniment.

New songs such as Steel Rails and Until I Find My Way Back To My Heart snuck snugly in among favourites such as the impossible-to-shake-off When You Say Nothing At All. Heck, the whole thing was perfect, although I'd love to hear them take a few more chances and really tear up a few of those fiddle, mandoline and banjo tunes.