French singer/lyricist Marianne Dissard says that all of her songs start out as lullabies (she pronounces it lool-a-byes) “until we put them in the suitcase and they become something else.” For listeners familiar with Dissard’s debut album, l’entredeux, the songs actually start out as a hybrid of Americana and traditional cabaret/chanson (French vocal-oriented lounge) music, outfitted in dense, jazzy arrangements courtesy of Calexico’s Joey Burns, who also wrote all the music. The racy video for “Les Draps Sourds,” which begins with a couple having sex in a bed and adds a new person to the mix every few minutes, works as a fitting metaphor for the music itself. In concert, however, Dissard and her backing band (which now includes violin, bass, guitar, and drums) shake off the elegant reserve of the album for a rowdier, more driving approach that still retains traces of its jazzy roots. Dissard herself manages to be fiesty, quick-witted, and self-effacing all once, dropping lighthearted quips like “Tim Horton’s are my bitches” between songs. With French singing unfairly consigned as either kitsch, passing trend, or both, Dissard manages to avoid novelty par excellence. As she channels the American West through a French-vocal lens, she makes both forms fit as if they were always meant for each other, and arguably even re-invents them both. Perhaps her work is so convincing because Dissard has a rightful claim to both forms after having grown up in France and Arizona. Perhaps it’s because she’s just a damn good time.

Sun., May 3, 9 p.m., 2009