St. Vincent

Photo by Shelley Hiam

St. Vincent

"The thing about Texas is we know how to kick out the jams," announced Dallas expatriate Annie Clark before oozing solo into the Beatles' "Dig a Pony." St. Vincent isn't merely another precious singer-songwriter earning ducats with nothing but good hair and eyelashes. Clark's a troubadour, and with a full band, she rocks out like a strung-up marionette. Introducing new songs and playing from her debut Marry Me, she went tribal before excusing her band for the aforementioned blues riff. She can be anything you want her to be – slow and abrasive, poppy and daring, seductive and raucous – but she's best alone and vulnerable, with nothing but a kick drum and guitar. Switching to keys for "Marry Me" came off as Feist-lite, but only because this chick can shred. "Thanks for being a part of the jam," she effused before breaking into a creepy, cool "Your Lips Are Red." Everything exploded, cymbals shrill, guitar squealing for help.