Technical skills have never been a prerequisite when it comes to making compelling rock music. Some of the greatest bands get by on the "four-chords-and-the-truth" program; conversely, those with the ability to dart dexterously up and down the guitar neck tend to create mind numbing and self-indulgent tunes—usually only enjoyed by other musicians or people on a healthy diet of hallucinogens. Which is why encountering an artist like Chicago's Dan Sullivan (whose stage name is the cleverly-inverted Nad Navillus) is a nice treat; here's a man who clearly knows his way around the scales but uses his skills in the service of intriguing and compact folk songs rather than lengthy jam sessions. Now for the best part: Sullivan is one of our very own, a proud fighting scot grad since 1996. He'll be returning to campus Sunday night for a live performance in the campus center sponsored by the programming board, headlining a double-bill with fellow talented Chicago songwriter Chris Mills beginning at 9 p.m.

"I think there's a time and a place for jamming out and indulging yourself musically," explains Sullivan via telephone from his Chicago home. "That isn't necessarily on a record. My favorite guitar players, like Doc Watson or Jon Fahey, were always conscious about making very economic decisions about what gets put on a record and what's better suited for a live situation. Opening up the songs and letting them take their own course is something I would be interested in pursuing on future records, but for this record I wanted to keep things tight."

"Tight" is indeed the perfect word to describe the slow-burning and moody Iron Night, Sullivan's third full-length record: nine songs of late-night melancholia driven by Sullivan's pinched and compelling tenor and spot-on guitar work.

It took Sullivan a while to find his way towards Nad Navillus in his post-Macalester years. He credits working as a guitarist for high profile indie-songwriter Jason Molina (aka Songs:Ohia) with opening his eyes about the possibilities of pursuing independent music making professionally. "Jason was the first guy that I met who was doing music and making a living off of it. He knew what he wanted to make and what kind of image he wanted to present to people.

"He was just very professional, which had a huge impact on my thinking. I was just your typical guy playing around town with as many different people as I could, not ever stopping to think about the larger musical world because it was too intimidating. Jason put me on airplanes and in front of audiences that didn't speak my language. showing me that a tour of Europe could be done. I really admired that focus and professionalism."

Sullivan's kept busy since Molina inspired him. After releasing his first solo record in 1999 (a self-titled instrumental outing), Navillus has managed to mount solo tours of Europe and garnered enough attention to record for Holland's VPRO national radio.

A musician of diverse tastes (he fronted a heavy metal band named Cockpocalypse during his Macalester days) and complex pursuits (he's worked on projects like arranging Igor Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring" for two guitars, drums and bass in addition to playing in bluegrass bands), Sullivan is keenly aware of the need for diversity in his musician lifestyle.

"You can't let yourself be too distracted by everything that you find interesting," Sullivan claims. "I'll pick up my guitar and play in any context just for the fun of it, but when I go into Nad Navillus mode I think it's important to stay focused and present a consistent thing to people. It's easy to say I love all different kinds of music and want to combine it all into one thing, but the reality is that that can be a bad decision and result in some truly awful music. At the same time I think that if you put a lot of effort and love into different types of music then one way or another it plays into your technique. My fingers still remember playing bluegrass and heavy metal, so that's going to get into the music to some degree even subconsciously."

Although the musical palette of Iron Night isn't very wide ranging (generally shifting between mid-tempo acoustic band arrangements and the occasional full-tilt rock number), it's executed with the kind of precision that makes it immediately enthralling. "Too Tight" rides a taut electric groove, while other tracks, such as "Iron Night" benefit from beautiful solo violin flourishes. An understated yet perfectly synchronized rhythm section keeps every song anchored, and the odd keyboard line, vibes solo, or bit of tenuous electric guitar feedback provide nice sonic textures.

The elegant music provides the perfect vehicle for Sullivan's thought provoking and stark lyrical portraits, which range from a family attending a loved one's funeral and reflecting on their own mortality to a musician pondering self-immolation. The only common thread in Sullivan's songs is their commitment to avoiding easy answers.

"I think that when I set out to do something specific in my songwriting it's often a failure and the best stuff comes out of something unspeakable that I can't even put my finger on," Sullivan says. "I've often thought that my strengths don't lie in being someone who can write a particular type of song. I start writing a song and it takes me where it takes me. Often times for me, emotions and situations can be ambiguous and that's what makes them interesting. I carry that into my writing; what the listener hears is usually me turning over a particular idea in my head from different angles, not really reaching a conclusion. I also know people who instantly trust their instincts and are very judgmental. I've always sort of envied those people—but I'm certainly not one of them."

Already far along in pursuing his musical dreams, Sullivan speaks reflectively about his future goals. "The future is sort of the big question not just for myself but I think thousands of musicians across the world in similar positions," Sullivan claims. "What's really beautiful about the scene I'm involved with is that people aren't doing music to make money, they're doing it because being a musician is what they want to do with their life more than anything else. You get horrible, self indulgent music that comes out of that mindset, but beautifully transcendent music as well. I'm lucky because I'm married to an amazing women who is supportive of what I do. I know I have another record in me at least and a couple more years on the road. It's a journey and I know I'll end up somewhere. I don't feel the need to worry about the future."