Cameron Harrison, singer, guitarist and songwriter for Farseek, sounded on the verge of collapse throughout the entirety of a short, cathartic set at Big Room Bar on a recent Wednesday.

Cameron Harrison, singer, guitarist and songwriter for Farseek, sounded on the verge of collapse throughout the entirety of a short, cathartic set at Big Room Bar on a recent Wednesday.

This was true both musically - songs were generally scrappy and propulsive, built on rough, tussled-hair guitar and drums that sounded as though they were in a perpetual state of falling apart (an appearance that might have been reality, judging by the numerous adjustments the drummer made to his kit after most tunes) - and lyrically.

Harrison, who generally records and performs solo (a drummer joined him here in preparation for a 15-day, two-man tour up the East Coast to New England), flooded his confessional songs with his accumulated anxieties, fretting about being "too weird" and wrestling with the damage done by untruthful acquaintances. "You let me and everyone down," he sang in a flat, deadpan tone on "Liar," a rare muted turn built on wobbly guitar and the dry, steady click of cymbal.

At times, the recent Florida transplant appeared to struggle with the idea his nerve-endings were too exposed - "[If I] show you my songs you'll think I'm a wreck," he offered on the set-closing tune - but it never prevented him from letting the damage show. On "Too Weird," the closing song off Farseek's most recent album, March, which actually surfaced in late February, Harrison struggled with his perceived eccentricities and the ways he sees them affecting his relationships ("I think we're too weird to be friends/ Sorry my anxiety never seems to end"), while another tune managed to rhyme a prevailing mood ("depressed') with a habit designed to help manage the mind state ("cigarettes").

Other times, Harrison shrugged off these various internal and external pressures. On "Being a Cool Guy," a slurry, Americana-tinged number that wobbled along like an unsteady bar patron, the singer even sounded somewhat comfortable in his own skin - temporarily, at least.

Generally, though, Harrison embraced these mounting discomforts, anxieties and fears, channeling them into short, punchy tunes that were often as messy, funny, endearing, painful, unsettling, ridiculous and memorable as life itself.