Catie Curtis Shows Strength in Lyrics

Catie Curtis sings in soft, yearning tones that are both modest and alarmingly direct. At the Troubadour on Monday, the Boston-based folk singer made music that demonstrated the timeless value of personal experience.

For Curtis, those experiences and observations ranged from ruined romance to social decay, set against music that was often as spare as it was emotionally true. Lacking the full instrumentation of her new “Truth From Lies” album, the singer brought her sound down to its barest elements, a mix of the modern and traditional that has helped make Curtis another promising voice in the revitalized contemporary folk movement.

Wearing black jeans and motorcycle boots, Curtis told brief, funny stories between songs--about growing up in rural Maine, about unusual jobs she’s held. But it was in her lyrics that Curtis had the greatest impact.

On the moving “The Wolf,” she explored domestic abuse from the perspective of a child, while “Hole in the Bucket” lamented the diminishing resources reserved for social services.

Backed by two musicians who added keyboards, mandolin, electric guitar and accordion to her simple acoustic guitar, the singer-songwriter embarked on some country-fried blues on “Crocodile Tears” and played a drum with brushes during “Troubled Mind.” Even those were just subtle accents on songs whose main strengths were their universal messages.