This Friday, The Ark, Ann Arbor's hearth and home for gentle acoustics and saccharine songwriters, will be visited by the haunting twang of Detroit's Blanche. Pairing elegiac lyrics with a pedal steel may seem like a standard characteristic of lonesome, Americana folk, but toss in Dan Miller's abrasive vocals, a hint of garage-rock and a pinch of autoharp, and you have a countrified, gothic, Detroit version of folk - Blanche style.

After opening for both the White Stripes and Wilco in previous years, Blanche and its first album, If We Can't Trust the Doctors, garnered a smattering of public attention. In addition to its eerie sound, Blanche has become known for its spectral, Laurence Welk-esque appearance. Dan and Tracee Miller forefront the group as guitarist, bassist and alternating vocalists; although Tracee's voice sounds like a pared down, softer version of Neko Case, visually the duo could pass for a modernized, coiffure-conscious and slightly morbid Alvin and Sara Carter.

Backing up the husband and wife vanguards are drummer Lisa "Jaybird" Jannon who seamlessly transitions between Blanche's stripped bare, con brio punk stylings and its more sedate, country diddies. The group's ghostly tunes are sustained by the pedal steel workings of a man named Feeny and the banjo pluckings and autoharp pickings of Little Jack Lawrence.

Armed with its 2006 EP What This Town Needs, and in anticipation of its upcoming LP Amber Bottles, Blanche will only be making a few touring appearances this spring. Fortunately for us, one of its destinations is Ann Arbor.