It’s an impressive feat for a seemingly timid woman with an electric piano to win the attention of a bar full of college students on a Friday night. The headliner for the College Union Board’s (CUB’s) female Singer/Songwriter Night at the Rathskeller pulled it off with a smile.

In spite of the sleepless night before her performance she spent waiting on the delivery of her newest EP, “Unsaid,” singer/songwriter Shannon Corey embraced Friday night’s Rat crowd with a bright burst of energy and excitement. Her 90-minute set rang with lyrical sincerity and all the sounds of a thoughtful mind at work.

Shannon Corey performed a number of covers and originals last Friday at the the Female Singer/Songwriter night in the Rat. (Brittany Oldewurtel / Staff Photographer)

Corey attended to an eager audience with her catalog of intelligent original works and a cross-section of rock and pop covers.

“Winter,” a song featured on MTV’s “The Real World,” projected a pictorial message of sympathy and understanding. Her lyrics, set in the form of a thought-provoking parallel, depicted the inner struggles of a friend in the context of shifting seasons.

Her playful nature onstage, however, belied the more serious attitude of some of her songs.

Corey prefaced one of her best compositions with an anecdote about dressing her little brother like a girl. But the songwriter dressed “I Miss Home,” in funny-turned-serious lyricism, Through her arching piano progressions, Corey meditated on her decision to leave her childhood home in Rhode Island for the artistic gateways of New York City.

Corey, a classical pianist since she was 3 years old, powered her lyrics with smart and shining keyboard structures. Her high-flying persona blended a musical theater background with a variety of influences in popular music.

She performed an array of cover songs including a flawless rendition of Ingrid Michaelson’s sharp-swinging “Breakable,” and well-done, stripped-down versions of songs by Cold War Kids, Foo Fighters and Kings of Leon. For the rock covers, friend and album artist Sean Carmichael accompanied Corey on acoustic guitar.

Later, Corey gave The Police’s “Message in a Bottle” a creative twist. The “S.O.S” refrain sounded more like a transmission of confidence than a song of desperation.

Both her covers and originals were intimate but comprehensive and demonstrated the transformative power of attitude and technical creativity.

New Jersey artist Lydia Rene, who opened for Corey, presented similar characteristics in a different style —rooted in R&B and infused with indie sensitivities.

Rene, with her fabulous hair and musical dexterity, split the difference between soul queen and independent singer/songwriter. Her warm, deeper-end vocal tones became agile and crisp and sometimes abrupt when the song required it.

In “Stressin’ Me,” she confronted her problems with good humor, a cheerful scolding: “I won’t enter your crazy with you / ’cause craziness is not how I do.”

“In Love” and “Demise” rounded out Rene’s set with a profound happy-sad duality. The first, with its melodic refrain stood in deep contrast to the second.  On “Demise,” a song Rene said she composed in about 30 seconds, she dropped the repetition in favor of delicate turns and lyrics that reflected urgent, sober thoughts.

For both performers, the keyboard added fundamental meaning to the songs. Rene’s chords were soft but atypical.  Her rhythms and progressions hinted at subversion, whether that implied someone else’s betrayal or her own rebellion against constraints.

A shared taste for minimalistic depth made Corey and Rene apt local partners. Though different in sound and style, both women brought a universal sincerity to the stage.