About a month ago I had the opportunity to interview Willy DeVille. I had asked him at the time if it was okay for me to record our conversation, and he had asked that I not for fear of it taking away from the moment. He used the comparison of colour photography versus black and white, saying he preferred the latter because of the simplicity in the moment.

It was more than just a concern about losing spontaneity because of the awareness of being recorded; it was an expression of a desire to keep things as simple and uncomplicated as possible to preserve the integrity of a moment in time at its most basic. Colour photography leaves nothing to the imagination, eliminates ambiguities. Black and white, on the other hand, suggests some things, while leaving others in shadow and open to interpretation in much the same manner as real human interaction.

That's Willy DeVilles's music in a nutshell, all shadows and suggestions, full of the ambiguities of human nature and gritty reality. He reduces, or distills, life down to its essential elements through his ability to depict moments in time and place lyrically in the same manner as a black and white still photographer.

His most recent studio album, already two years old, Crow Jane Alley provides plenty of opportunity to witness his approach to song writing and performing. Of the ten songs, eight are originals and two are covers that ideally suit both his temperament and musical goals. "Slave For Love" by Bryan Ferry sounds far better with Willy singing it than any other version I've heard as he is able to make the song into a simple statement of intent, rather than a mawkish sentimental ballad.

Then there's his take on that old favourite "Come A Little Bit Closer" by Jay and the Americans. It's a riot, with Willy laying it on so thick that you can hear the leer on his face and see the suggestive twinkle in his eye through your speakers. It's almost as if he's making fun of the old machismo Latin image that he used to have in the days of "Cadillac Walk"

But it's his own material where Willy truly shines. The opening track "Chieva" could be a song to a lost love, a woman who has done him wrong, until you listen closely and realize it's actually about heroin and kicking the habit. The description of the drug as a seductive force in one's life, its power to make you love it and the way in which it destroys you all at the same time, has never been sung about in such an evocative manner before.

On "Downside Of Town" and "My Forever Came Today" Willy looks at both sides of love, when it goes sour, and when you're in the glow and warmth of a new relationship. Both these types of songs have lent themselves in the past to the worst excesses of cheap sentimentality in pop music. But in this instance, neither one strikes a false note.