Strange, surreal and down-right bizarre are words generally used to describe David Lynch’s films. Well, now these words can also be employed to describe Donovan – Lynch’s transcendental sidekick. As part of the tour to promote Lynch’s new book Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, Creativity and the David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and World Peace Mr. Lynch has teamed up with 60s cult troubadour Donovan to spread the message of transcendental meditation.

Not surprisingly, after Lynch finishes his Q&A session and welcomes Donovan to the stage – so making himself the warm-up act and Donovan the headliner – many audience members take their cue to exit the building. But they miss out, because what those remaining are treated to is like a scene out of Twin Peaks: pure Lynch-like goodness. An aging rocker resembling a 70s throwaway tells stories of his experiences with the Beatles in India, bathed in weird mood-lighting. With the addition of some strobe lights and Kyle MacLachlan, the stage would be set.

Dononvan, a flower-power legend in his own right, will always be overshadowed by greater musicians of the time, even though he might have influenced the Beatles. He seems infinitely sad, reminiscing about better times and still clinging to the songs that made him famous. Of course, he plays the obligatory ‘Universal Soldier,’ ‘Hurdy Gurdy Man,’ ‘Mellow Yellow’ and the like but even these songs never garner real delight from the audience (save one audience member sitting next to me who appears to be Donovan’s biggest fan in the universe, transcendental or not).

The surreal highlight of the evening comes as Donavan graces us with a song written to honour the founding of his new transcendental meditation university – to be located, perhaps, here in Edinburgh and aptly named the Invincible Donovan University. I'm struck by an odd feeling, one which takes a while to piece together. In an interview at the AFI Dallas International Film Festival this year Lynch was asked what his views on product placement in films were and he responded with his usual crispness: “Bullshit. That’s how I feel. Total, fucking bullshit.” If that is so, why do I feel like I've been taken for a ride on the commercial transcendental meditation highway?