Shannon Wright

On her records, Shannon Wright plays almost every instrument herself, giving the already unsettling compositions a claustrophobic feel. Live, Wright’s profoundly disquieting material seems even more intensely personal, even as her backing band shares the burden. Wright’s 2004 release, Over the Sun, is a total eclipse, an emotionally exhausting descent into darkness on which raucous riffs crest and crash with her depressed delivery. Her elastic voice snaps at unexpected intervals, inserting cathartic climaxes into languid laments. But whereas Wright’s overpowering anguish can turn her recorded tunes into bleak black holes, her absorbing, animated stage show adds nuance, reminding concertgoers that she isn’t always in agony. This realization doesn’t make her sorrowful songs less convincing, but it does make them easier to enjoy.