Near the midpoint of Natural Sway's Tuesday concert at Café Bourbon St. - the newborn trio's third-ever show, according to singer/guitarist Ryan Eilbeck - the frontman strummed a couple loose chords.

Near the midpoint of Natural Sway's Tuesday concert at Café Bourbon St. - the newborn trio's third-ever show, according to singer/guitarist Ryan Eilbeck - the frontman strummed a couple loose chords.

"That's a G major," he said. "I've known it for a while."

It was one of the few instances of certainty on an evening where the songs tended to be populated by unsteady narrators. Throughout, characters appeared torn between digging in and walking away, struggled to find the right words to say, and waited patiently for the guillotine to fall, forever severing ties with the only lives they'd known. "Looking at the sky," sang Eilbeck on one spacious, methodical number, his voice reminiscent of Neil Young's plaintive, reedy whine, "You want to say something."

Eilbeck, who also fronts Delay, is no stranger to these kinds of heady emotions. "Within Delay, we've always had these songs that are either focusing on the loss of that type of romantic relationship or on those moments of being in total romantic love and totally out of control," he said in a summer 2014 interview, discussing that band's latest full-length, Circle Change.

Natural Sway songs, in turn, felt more ambiguous, filled with dizzying emotions that frequently spilled over into the singer's conflicted words. "I don't know what else to say," Eilbeck seemed to sigh on one number.

Even so, the music exhibited supreme confidence, building around coiled guitar riffs that alternately churned, wailed and soared, and bass lines that often functioned as co-leads. In contrast with Eilbeck's instrument, which generally spoke out in clear, if slightly scruffy, tones, bassist Sarah Yetter favored a gnarlier sound, and her bass often rumbled with tectonic force.

In the Facebook even listing for the concert, Natural Sway described its output as "pop songs to drink Blatz to," and, sure, there were instances where the three musicians locked in, Eilbeck pogoing along to scrappy songs that conjured images of Dinosaur Jr. at its most playful. "Leans in close when he talks to me," the singer exhaled on one tune, following with a balled riff that appeared designed to clear some elbow room.

But more often the crew's songs walked murkier terrain, moving at a pace that allowed thoughts to collect gradually. Expect these accumulated recollections to spill forth when the trio gathers sometime next year to produce its first recordings, hopefully as early as January.