Live Review: Kristin Hersh, O' Little Sister

The usual narrow channel of Black Bear Lodge has been filled with chairs tonight and transformed into an intimate theatre environment, and most of the sitting room is accounted for by the time O' Little Sister – the musical nom de plume of Brisbane songstress Lucinda Johnson – takes the stage armed with just an acoustic guitar and begins to regale the crowd with breathy tales of affairs of the heart. Her quiet fingerpicking leaves plenty of space for her voice to show its impressive range, but it's the lyrics which drive most of these relationship narratives, covering subjects such as feeling safe in a loved one's arms and wanting a boyfriend (for some reason) who's just like Tintin. The intimate Kentucky Star shines brightly, and a short but entertaining set concludes with an acoustic deconstruction of Miley Cyrus's Wrecking Ball.

After a brief sojourn former Throwing Muses mainstay Kristin Hersh rushes on stage and takes a seat – also clutching an acoustic – and kicks off with Your Dirty Answer, the diminutive singer's voice so expressive as if she's witnessed far more than one lifetime would allow. This is the Words & Music tour, so following the sparse and harrowing Sno Cat she picks up a copy of her memoirs and offers, “This is based on my teenage diary. I'm so sorry,” before reciting a funny and self-effacing passage in her absolutely gorgeous spoken voice. This is how the night proceeds from hereon in; a couple of songs – mainly from Hersh's long-spanning solo career, plus tracks from Throwing Muses' epic 2013 return Purgatory/Paradise – and then a reading of prose, often material released with the song she's about to unveil. Hersh proves to be a wonderful guitarist, coaxing strange textures and tones to accompany the surreal worldview that emanates from her lyrics. Songs like the ominous Slippershell and the downcast Poor Wayfaring Stranger work perfectly in this stripped-back environment, allowing her voice to come to the fore in all its ragged glory, while Detox proves malleable amidst its meandering and Static is upbeat and abrasive. The spoken interludes provide a fascinating insight into Hersh's mindset and also make proceedings feel impossibly intimate, but it's the gorgeous songs like the impossibly moving Your Ghost which dominate proceedings and affect both physically and cerebrally. Mississippi Kite has an REM-esque feel, Flooding is confused and aching and the set concludes with Krait, a soaring and acerbic number rife with mordant imagery.

The obligatory encore starts with the urgent discord of Sunray Venus and ends all too abruptly with early Muses track Your Cage and it's over – two guitars, two voices and one brilliant night of music.