Waxahatchee at The Workman’s Club, Dublin on 26th October 2013

This Saturday night is a big one in the city. Being the bank holiday before Halloween there are many people in fancy dress, on the town safe in the knowledge that work is still 60 hours away. The rain has eased and it’s a mild night. Then of course, there’s all the music available. If it’s not the big post-rock of Efterklang or God is an Astronaut you’re after, how about Donovan’s psychedelic flower pop? Or there’s the more intimate Waxahatchee in the intimate Workman’s club.

But before the latter’s Katie Crutchfield took to the stage, it was up to her twin sister Allison, with her band Swearin’, to get things moving. And they did just that, with their lo-fi 90s punk. Crutchfield and guitarist Kyle Gilbride share the vocal duties on a collection of tunes with the likes of early Hole and early Smashing Pumpkins stamped all over their sound. For all we know, Swearin’ may have given up listening to new music sometime circa 1995, but that doesn’t matter to us.

The sound is upbeat and feel good, and gets the crowd – the Workman’s is about half full – moving from an early stage. Their impressive set should win Swearin’ a few more fans on the night but it’s Katie Crutchfield and her Waxahatchee that are the star attraction.

Very much the Lena Dunham of indie-rock, there is something overwhelming in Crutchfield’s music. Her voice is soft and sweet and her lyrics are mostly downbeat, a stark contrast to what has come before.

Her guitar, together with the drums and bass, play a mostly loud-quiet-loud set; the sound of the cruel world juxtaposed with her soft, sweet, yet impotent voice. Dressed in an oversized plaid shirt, and woolly hat, her dark fringe frames her milk-white face. Her eyes, when opened, focus on her mic or her guitar; not wishing to gaze out upon the faces of the watchful crowd. A smile only creeps across her face halfway through the set when, on Bathtub, a few of her lyrics are sung back to her.

Otherwise, the crowd are mostly silent, looking on at the understated power coming from the stage. Her lyrics are touching, lost cries covered by the music. “I said to you on the night that we met I am not well,” she sings on Brother Bryan. “I don’t care if I’m too young to be unhappy,” follows shortly afterwards on Grass Stains.

Amid the occasionally cacophonous music, she raises her voice only twice; first on Misery Over Dispute and then on a cover of Mama Cass Elliot’s Make Your Own Kind of Music. At all other times, her restrained voice makes her words seem ever more vital.

As she sings the closing lines to Noccalula – “You’re in the Carolinas and I’m going to New York/and I’ll be much better there/or that’s what I’m hoping for/And we will never speak again.” – the band exit the stage. Shortly after Katie returns on her own for a heartbreaking encore.

Tangled Envisioning, Blue Pt II and I Think I Love You are the most emotionally powerful songs of the night – witness the lyrics “And you will hurt me/And I deserve it” from the latter – and with just her guitar to add to the words, it’s so much more intimate than before.

Her vocals may sound like an impotent cry in an unforgiving world, but Waxahatchee has a voice worth listening to, with words worth hearing. Her show on Saturday night was the perfect example of why.