Laura Marling is my favorite kind of performer — she doesn’t talk much, she just stands up there and plays as many songs as she can fit into 40 minutes, stopping only to switch guitars. She’s not cold, just focused and unrelenting, arresting you with her lyricism. The songs on Marling’s most recent two albums, this year’s Short Movie and 2013’s Once I Was An Eagle, are sharp-witted and sometimes angry, burdened with stories about ailing relationships and falling for all of the wrong people. These are albums that speak louder when you can directly relate to them, but Marling’s technical skill is so undeniable that watching her perform is paralyzing, even if you don’t listen to the vitriol she spews. My favorite moment in a Marling song appears in the single “Master Hunter,” when she re-appropriates Dylan to transform a personal trauma into an age-old tale: “Well if you want a woman who can call your name, it ain’t me babe/ No, no, no, it ain’t me babe.” That moment finally shut up the dumbass who continuously shouted “She’s a babe!” and “Marry me!” in the early parts of Marling’s set. At least, I like to think that’s what did it.