PAUL Thorn attended his first-ever rock concert two years ago at the late age of 31, having spent his teens in the strict evangelical gospel tradition of his preacher-father's faith, the Church of God of Prophecy. Naturally, Paul's introduction to rock-gig convention was pretty memorable. ''The show was in Nashville, suh, at the Lakewood Am-phi-thee-ay-tuh,'' he tells me in the honeyed drawl of his native Tupelo, Mississippi, the birthplace of one Elvis Aaron Presley.

Anything else stick in your mind about that first rock show? ''Uh, yessuh . . . I was on stage opening for Sting, and the people seemed mighty appreciative of what I was doin'.''

Lots of people have quickly become mighty appreciative of Thorn's skills as a singer-songwriter. Most crucially, Thorn's short professional career has been much advanced by his having wowed music-publishing magnate Miles Copeland, Sting's first manager in the Police. Thorn has thus gone on to craft songs for country giants like Tanya Tucker and Ronnie Milsap, in the process being able to give up his one prolonged secular gig: playing two nights a week to the patrons of Poppa Vanelli's Pizza Restaurant in Tupelo (population 30,000).

In the past 12 months Thorn has earned rave reviews in Britain for his splendid debut album, Hammer And Nail (A&M), as well as his support slots with acts as disparate as Paul Carrack, Peter Green, and Zucchero. Next week Jools Holland's Scottish devotees will be able to judge Thorn's worth for themselves at three shows north of the Border.

Of course, Thorn's apparent overnight success has been a long time a-comin', and owes much to his having been left bloodied and bowed one night in 1987 in a boxing ring in Atlantic City. ''I lost to four-time world champion Roberto Duran in my biggest fight as a professional boxer. He stopped me in the seventh with a cut over my eye, leaving me with a record of 27 wins and three losses.

''I learnt that night I wasn't going to be a world champion, and I retired in 1989. I'd been writing music since my teens, mostly with my current songwriting partner, Billy Maddox, who wrote If Heaven Ain't A Lot Like Dixie, I Don't Wanna Go. I grew up singing every week in churches and listening to original-style black gospel, but I also had every kind of record that was good: Howlin' Wolf, John Lee Hooker, Elton John, sappy love stuff by the Carpenters.''

Carpentry loomed large in Thorn's life for a spell. For 12 years he combined upper-cuts with cutting wood to make chairs in a furniture factory. Boxing gave him his musicbiz philosophy, however.

''If I accomplish a lot, or if I don't, I know it won't last forever. Bow out gracefully when it's your time to let go. I see artists trying to beat a dead horse. They should realise that you can have fun, but don't try to hold on to it.''

Grab a hold of Paul Thorn's music soon. It's fun. It's a bit of a knock-out, too.

n Paul Thorn supports Jools Holland and His Big Band at Glasgow's Royal Concert Hall next Wednesday; Aberdeen's Music Hall (Thursday); and the Usher Hall, Edinburgh (Friday).

David Belcher