In a play, every mood is carefully orchestrated, each step meticulously considered, and every role vitally important. Of course, someone always emerges as the "star", even if other, equally deserving contributors are ignored. If ...La Merde et Les Etoiles (if high school French serves, "The Shit and the Stars") were a play, singer/songwriter Bob Massey would be the star, and his lyrics his character.

As in any play, it would be foolish to forget or downplay the importance of the supporting characters. Although few of them are on stage for any amount of time, each makes a mark with an interesting interpretation of the given role. Luther Gray's drums skulk like Shakespeare's Shylock, Johanna Claasen's bass anchors the set with spare decoration, and the rest of the players appear like a Greek chorus -- sometimes providing soft uplift, but more often than not supporting the stark and downtempo mood. Like the best of Black Heart Procession, Nick Cave and Red House Painters, this music is subtly unsettling, deeper and darker than its simple elements suggest.

"Garofalo, C'est Moi" is Massey and guitar for half its length, his smarmily sardonic voice flitting gently over short runs and lightly strummed chords. While your attention is focused on his voice and lyrics, the rest of the players do their work: they move roughshod over the music, never making an integrated piece, filling the space with burrs and sharp edges. Their entrance heralds "Tom Shroder's Blues"; like orchestral movements, the songs slide into each other. The darkness continues; the feeling of emptiness pervades even the busiest sections. "Kong Meets His Maker (A Parable About Dating)" is a scene change. The backing strings and drums become slightly more schizophrenic, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere for Massey's lyrics, which seem to be about King Kong, Jesus and first dates: "The king of Jews / Watched as the king of a different jungle / passed from a strange world / and he heard his monkey say: / I never did dream in all my years all in the jungle / that beauty and wonder could be this close to me / my world was a finer place 'cause she was in it / the empire state was not too high to climb for love."

...La Merde et Les Etoiles is beautifully dissonant; unsettling and enrapturing in equal measures, it demands attention even as it pushes you away. It may not explain everything in its final act, but stay and listen anyway: the actors deserve more than an empty theater when they take their curtain call.