As he stands blinking into a faulty strobe light in a Manchester bar, some seven years and three albums into his career as a singer-songwriter, Jim White could be forgiven for wondering how he got here. For someone who has changed his occupation more often than he has his ever-present trucker's caps, it's a surprise he ever stuck to it this long. And when you consider that he wounded his hand in a band-saw accident, it's lucky he even made it in the first place.

It is White's dark sense of humour that got him this far. Explaining the inspiration for If Jesus Drove a Motor Home, he admits: "You don't have to have a terribly inventive mind if you live in a fucked-up town." He has found grace and humour in the myths and traditions of the Deep South, yet he can't help delivering them like a tourist looking in from the outside with a wink.

He rarely sings, preferring to whisper conspiratorially into the microphone like a late-night radio DJ. During That Girl from Brownsville Texas, White promises God he'll become "the religious fool you've always wanted me to be" in return for some divine intervention to help him get the girl.

Musically, his damaged hand works against him, and White looks uncomfortable hunched over his Telecaster: his hand floats tentatively over the frets like an upturned glass skimming a ouija board. The other-worldly twang that results is reminiscent of Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska album, albeit covered by JJ Cale.

White recently presented a BBC documentary, Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus, which took its title from his first album and allowed him to explore further his twin lyrical obsessions of pretty girls and religion. His success suggests another career move is on the cards, but while he and his band are on such entertaining form, he may not give up gigging just yet.

· At Islington Academy, London N1, tonight. Box office: 0870 771 2000. Then touring.