Bern  - His voice is creaking and gargling, his fingers strumming the guitar strings hard. The kick-drum leads a steady beat and a cymbal clangs from time to time.

When Reverend Beat-Man from the Swiss capital Bern performs as a one-man-orchestra, it sounds one minute like enchanted swampland, another like the open range, and maybe occasionally like voodoo rituals and the curses of the possessed.

Fans honour these concerts as religious services in the Swiss musician's "Blues Trash Church." This is the reverend's mission: To celebrate the spirit, the raw core of Blues, zealously, like a rock 'n' roll religion, singing songs with the titles "Jesus Christ Twist," "Back in Hell" and "I've got the Devil Inside."

What appears to be a thoroughly American affair is actually taking place in central Switzerland. It is hard to believe that this "screeching trash rock-a-boogie" is originating from a country that is home to the cuckoo clock, mused one US critic.

Swiss media called the eccentric Reverend Beat-Man a "Gesamtkunstwerk" - a piece of art to the core - a man who loves priest-style suits and wears his hair short except for an oily strand that falls into his sweat-covered face during concerts.

Sure, he could also work in New York or Los Angeles, says the 41- year old, "but I simply belong here. I love the nature and I love my city."

On his MySpace website he presents himself, ironically, wearing traditional local clothing, and says his hometown of Bern is "Burn in hell."

Going into business almost 25 years ago, the self-declared reverend and his church now have "disciples" all over the world. The musician is regularly booked for gigs in Germany, Spain, Russia and Japan and has also played in Las Vegas.

He draws his audience from a variety of subcultures: rockabillies, psychobillies, soul fans, young hip-hoppers and more.

Beat-Man received the nicest compliment from black hotel employees after a show in the US. "They just thought my sound was good."

Blues was all about simple wisdom that can be understood worldwide, Beat-Man says. "Being heartsick, drunk and broke."

The Bern musician recorded more than 30 albums, many of them together with Switzerland's most famous garage-punk band The Monsters, who he co-founded in the
1980s.

The trained electrician publishes his music himself. He launched his label Voodoo Rhythm Records in 1992 which he runs from a small Bern office and which also publishes the work of musicians he's befriended from abroad.

The many facets to Reverend Beat-Man - the record company, the solo and band musician, the dj and concert agent - add up to a very busy one-man business. He is at least as tied up as Swiss chart star DJ Bobo.

"It's a shame that his name often is the only one connected to the Swiss music scene," says Beat-Man, who is nevertheless happy not to be a "mass product" on the music charts.

Big music corporations treat musicians as brands, he says, and that fits neither his temperament nor his perception of music: "It's got to make noise. Good music is raw and real and shows you your soul."

At first glance, the "Reverend" seems to be a rather rude fellow: both his arms are heavily tattooed, numerous pin-ups decorate his record covers and one of his background bands is called The Church of Herpes.

The truth is he's a single father raising a 7-year-old son, and music colleagues and concert managers praise him for his straight- forward, friendly manner.

He wears a medal on his suit that looks like a martial emblem but at closer look is actually an award from a pet organization. "This is a medal from the rabbit breeders' association," Beat-Man says, grinning.

Last but not least, even his pseudonym is completely ironic: His real name is Beat Zeller. "Beat is a first name typical in Switzerland," says Beat-Man. "At some point I realized it sounded pretty good in the English pronunciation."

By now not only fans and friends but all his relatives have started calling him by his stage name and he also signs business correspondence as "Beat-Man."

Once, he performed - naked apart from a mask - as a musical wrestling show, breaking his own nose and "hurling salad from the buffet into the crowd."

Today he keeps to the basics. On his homepage, he lists what a good show needs: a kick-drum with a pedal, a Marshall or Fender guitar amplifier, two fresh towels, cold beer, a bottle of herb liquor, a Bible in the local language and a list with the city's best record and rummage shops. (dpa)