The past few years have seen plenty of talk about the folk revival (be it “nu-,” “avant-,” or “freak-,” but few people seem to be mentioning Jim White. True, he doesn’t have some of the true folky characteristics that people like Sam Beam and Devendra Banhart have (such as a reliance on acoustic instruments), but he does have a down-home delivery, a storyteller approach, , a populist sensibility, a strong use of American mythology, and a fascination with the Southern gothic. More important, he’s one of the best songwriters working right now.

Saturday, White performed one of the best live shows I’ve seen in years. He played by himself, using a loop machine and pre-recorded drum tracks. In his looping, he included melodica, toy stereos, and wind noises. It would be easy to be distracted by the technology in most cases, but White’s lyrics are so moving that my attention didn’t wander.

Between songs, he told stories, which I normally find tedious, but he had such good tales and a great delivery. I don’t think a concert’s ever gone by faster for me. He was frequently funny, a little shy, and always down-to-earth, whether talking about his initial attempts to have the guitarist from PM Dawn join his band or the recent hurricanes to hit his home town or the time God heard the prayers of a heathen over those of a believer. He was most emotional talking about his daughter, whom he missed, and he even thanked an audience member for bringing a child in a Halloween costume.

White strikes me as someone you’d love to sit on your porch playing music with at a barbecue. The humility’s not false, and he comes across as open and honest as anyone I’ve seen on stage.

All that, and his songs are brilliant, too.