HE fronts a band whose songs have been described as bleak, and their

writer as neurotic and introspective, not that Love and Money's James

Grant is impressed by that critique.

''I take exception to that Dr Doom stuff. I don't like myself and the

band being compartmentalised like that, and anyway, I'm not sure we ever

appealed to that heartbroken student-in-a-garret type.''

The fact is that Grant is attracted to blues music in much the same

way as millions of others, and for the same reasons -- raw emotions that

hit the mark hard. The only difference from the rest of us is that he

also writes, plays and sings about them.

''I'm trying to crystallize feelings into song, to share whatever has

affected me enough to write in the first place,'' he says a little

defensively, as if a defence was required.

Somewhat world-wearied from previous record company hype, excess, and

downright bullying (deliver three hits singles a year, or else), he is

refreshingly upbeat about the new album, Littledeath, and single, Last

Ship On The River, on Glasgow label Iona Records.

He's also well pleased with the freedom the Iona deal allows, and is

already well on the way to completing enough material for a second album

for Iona, due by the end of the year. A new rehearsal room has also

reaped benefits.

''We like getting together up here in the flat and plugging everything

into my stereo. It's helped to bind us together as a unit, and it suits

our more acoustic sound.''

On the new album, that sound includes mandolin, fiddle, dobro and

harmonica, on top of the band's two guitars, keyboards and drums format.

Littledeath has quality stamped across its wide range of styles --

from the languid blues Without Her, through the weighty blast of Sweet

Black Luger (a sketch for a ''kinda novel'' Grant is working on), to the

swing of Will The Circle Be Unbroken.

''In the case of last Ship On The River, although it deals with urban

decline in Glasgow and elsewhere, at the end of the day the people are

still there and still struggling on despite everything that's thrown at

them.

''They're the heroes really, the ordinary folk everywhere who refuse

to be broken by the disasters life visits on them every day, that

optimism under everything else.''

AS the rain batters away at the window pane, he looks out and without

a trace of irony says: ''I love Glasgow, I wouldn't dream of moving.''

So much so, the normally stage-shy Grant has decided the time is right

to step back onto the boards for a rare appearance at this year's

Mayfest.

He's come a long way on the rock'n'roller coaster since blasting out

Hey Joe and Honky Tonk Woman in The Doune Castle as a 16-year-old, but

he hasn't been forgotten if advance ticket sales are anything to go by

-- tomorrow's gig in the Beck's Tent in Glasgow Green is the fastest

selling in the Mayfest programme. The affection he feels for his home

city will surely be returned.