Six men on stage, 1,000 punters in the crowd. Sounds like an even match, doesn't it?

But when it's six men with nary an amplifier between them, the odds aren't quite so fair -- even when two of those men happen to be tough, Texan country-rocker Steve Earle and celebrated bluegrass champ Del McCoury.

Earle held court, Grand Ole Opry-style, last night at the Guvernment, huddled around a single room mike with the Del McCoury Band -- featuring the semi-legendary guitarist-singer, sons Ronnie and Rob on mandolin and banjo, respectively, fiddler Jason Carter, and bassist Mike Bubb.

In laymen's terms, that's about as "unplugged" as you can get in a several thousand square foot room: No electric guitars; no volume pedals to step on; they didn't even crank up the club's p.a. They just stood in a semi-circle, with Earle stepping up with his gritty acoustic delivery, and trading-off with the McCoury Band's lightning solos and lacquer-smooth harmonies.

It was entertainment enough for at least the first quarter of the nearly four-hour (!) set to watch these sharp-dressed country mavericks sweat for their supper. Given the novel but ultimately inefficient sonic approach, Earle and McCoury had to combat the muttering din of a packed-house.

For the record, it was a relatively polite and enthusiastic crowd throughout -- a less appreciative audience could have just as easily talked over a band playing at such a low volume.

That's testament, perhaps, to the work of Earle and the McCoury Band's recent collaborative album, The Mountain, which packs enough bluesy, bluegrass goodness to satisfy both Earle diehards and hillbilly purists.

To be on the safe side, last night's gig was divvied up into four acts: Earle with McCoury's boys; the twinkly grinning McCoury and band showcasing their show-stopping skills on their own with songs from their latest album, The Family; a solo acoustic set by Earle; and a full-band barn-burner to close things off.

Fairweather fans got a bit restless -- persistent calls for Earle's late '80s hit Copperhead Road were met with an icy glare from the singer, though he would oblige them later with McCoury at his side. Likewise, Earle's trademark for telling interesting tales between songs was hurt.

Compelling tunes like Dixieland, Harlan Man, and I Still Carry You Around -- the last one plucked from Earle's 1997 album El Corazon -- would have dazzled in a smaller room, or a sweet-sounding theatre like Massey Hall.

Still, the fact it held together was testament to the talent involved.