THAO

Making a record entirely alone, playing every instrument on it, is usually a sign that something went wrong — a band dissolved, a relationship ended, a year happened. In this case all three, and the result is the least polite thing this writer has made: rhythmic, blunt, funny in the way people get when they have stopped performing okayness. The earlier records won over a folk-adjacent crowd who may be surprised by how much of this one is built on drums and distortion. Live she is a genuinely commanding presence and talks to the room more than most, which turns a set into something closer to a conversation. Highland Park's upstairs lodge holds a few hundred with a balcony and good sound. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56 on a Tuesday. Rooms this size are where the people who have followed a writer for fifteen years end up standing next to whoever just found her.