It's just as well Adem Ilhan likes a challenge. Until now he's been the faithful bassist in instrumental innovators Fridge, ploughing an ever-deepening furrow into electronic folk and patiently watching fellow member Kieran Hebden find prestige with his extra-curricular activities in Four Tet. Having discovered a fragile voice and emerged from Hebden's long shadow, Ilhan is now faced with the reality of solo success.

Blinking in the spotlight, gripping his acoustic guitar, he pleads with an unruly crowd to shut up and listen. Despite projections of tree trunks and branches hanging from the arched ceiling, reflecting the organic nature of the music, the club has all the natural serenity of a London Underground station during the blitz. The constant beery chatter drowns out the sound of birdsong Ilhan tries to evoke. When he comes to a particularly quiet song and says, "I think I'm going to wet myself," it's difficult to know if he's scared or just making a last-ditch appeal for attention.

It can't be lack of confidence. His debut album, Homesongs, glows with ease and bathes in a warm blend of acoustic guitar and autoharp. Though made vivid through laptop tweakings, stripped of technical wizardry, these small songs swell to embrace a live environment. The menace within Gone Away momentarily, swamps its delicacy. Gone in a Million's plonking banjo gives Ilhan's wide-eyed stare a Waltons-like innocence.

Ilhan himself has the gentle patience of a Sunday school teacher, enjoying the Hey Jude-like spirit of These Are Your Friends. Far from being a showy frontman, he none the less pours his heart into every languid vocal. Though the lo-fi pop of Ringing In My Ear recalls Badly Drawn Boy, it's saccharine sneer and determined quietness in the face of chaos is pure Adem.

· At the Liquid Rooms, Edinburgh (0131-225 2564), on April 28 and the Tramway, Glasgow (0141-422 2023), on April 29.