Calexico with added muscles

Like its municipal namesake, Calexico (the band) is heavily influenced both by the American South and the Mexican North. On the one hand, you have desert-dry Americana, all slide guitar and understated emotion; on the other, you have the sheer exuberance of the Mariachi horns and accordion which punctuate almost every song. However, unlike its municipal namesake, Calexico (the band) are also one of the most consistently satisfying experiences around, masterful at what they do and well worth making a detour to investigate.

In years past, Calexico were a bit more restrained in their use of brass, bringing dusty, low key atmospherics to the fore as often as the more vibrant Tejano elements, but the current composition of the band lends itself well to a more muscular live performance. It's hard to pinpoint a particular star of the band's line-up, given that every member seems to be proficient in at least 10 instruments and have at least an acceptable singing voice, but special credit has to be given to Madrid-based guitarist Jairo Zavala, whose enthusiastic guitar shredding adds a new level of intensity throughout the set, and charismatic stalwart Jacob Valenzuela, the lynchpin of the band's Latino influences and general musical Renaissance Man.

Many of the band's more upbeat tracks get an airing at Shepherd's Bush Empire tonight (28th April), including newbie "Coyoacán" which could have come straight out of an Ennio Morricone score, and "Not Even Stevie Nicks", a more traditional indie-rock number that incongruously incorporates a snippet of "Love Will Tear Us Apart". There's also time for fan favourites such as "Guero Canelo" and "Corona", which get the audience singing and gyrating with a most un-London abandon. But there's room too for the band's more subtle output - the lighter-waving loveliness of "Sunken Waltz" is an early highlight, and the unostentatious ballad "Miles from the Sea" is a fine showcase of Calexico's more delicate side. Most of all, the set closer and title track from their new album "Follow The River" has a haunting beauty not a million miles from Devotchka's "How It Ends", and almost made up for the tragic lack of "The Crystal Frontier".

But it's not just the musicianship and songs that make Calexico so compelling. It's the fact that after nineteen years, they still look like they're having the time of their lives. Plenty of acts look burnt out after two years, let alone two decades, so to witness a band that so obviously enjoys what they do, and so effortlessly communicates that sense of joy to their audience is frankly great for the soul (even if it does inspire too many middle-class people to dance with what they believe to be "Latin fervour".)