Nina Nastasia makes delicate songs with unexpected, unnerving strength, wrapping traditional instruments around stark, contemporary themes. Indulging in chat is another matter. "I don't think I'm gonna do a whole lot of talking, because I tend to insult people without meaning it," she explains. "So, if I insult anyone, I mean it."

Craving and exploring intimacy is Nastasia's speciality. Her successful second album, The Blackened Heart, forced her country-tinged tales of love, death, secrets and lies out of their cult niche. Her new album, Run to Ruin, is more eloquent and elegant, feeding off the nastiness of relationships with both a childlike innocence and adult perspective.

Despite hailing from Hollywood, Nastasia is no typical Californian girl. She is a severe apparition in her black top and grey skirt, looking a bit like Frida Kahlo in mourning. But she shares the light touch and heart-rending simplicity of Suzanne Vega, adding a soft, folky hum and gentle twang to the emotional maelstrom within her sparse songs.

Watching her band is like glimpsing an affectionate family, with Nastasia the gentle but disciplined matriarch. Stephen Day's cello moans as Dave Richards's bass intrudes on its sadness on I Say That I Will Go, Richards rocking the bass back and forth as a spinning symphony of discordant violin and agile drums, brushed by the elastic-wristed Jim White, whirl around Joshua Carlebach's accordion. Nastasia, as much voyeur as participant, watches silently, the still heart of the passionate chaos.

You Her and Me, a tale of a day at the seaside gone horribly wrong, has Nastasia dropping the disenchanted good-girl act for a moment. "Hate her like nobody knows," she spits. She is only a little more powerful when she's spiteful than when she's sublime.

· Nina Nastasia plays Barfly, Glasgow (0141-221 0414), tonight, then tours.