hoping words will fall

I'm just sayin...

2011-07-05T00:05:00.013-04:00

Bridget Regan's natural hair

plus Bridget Regan kickin' ass

equals Disney Pixar's Brave

"I'm like the rain in a downpour"

2010-07-10T20:14:00.012-04:00

Whatever calculated, pretentious facade you may think Lady Gaga works behind, throw the girl in front of a flash mob of 20,000+ Monsters in downtown NYC and there won't be a wall left standing. For all its unscripted, imperfect liveness and ruined hair and makeup, GaGa's 30 minute Today Show display in Rockefeller Plaza July 9th may very well have eclipsed every performance she's done up to this point. Because it couldn't have more clearly defined, revealed or cemented her greatness, and all it took was a little bit of rain.

"I just can't keep my eyes on that door anymore"

2010-07-09T19:24:00.006-04:00

The Door In The Wall by Grasscut

I see you smiling
I see you turning your face to the wall
It's not that I think you are wrong
I just can't keep my eyes on that door anymore, anymore

That's sooo GaGa

2010-06-26T02:37:00.016-04:00

If previous posts haven't made it obvious, I'm rather, um, fond of the Lady.

I'm also a big fan of the webstore ETSY and spend inordinate amounts of time perusing their handmade and vintage goods. Every now and then I come across a gem that makes me say "That's so GaGa." Case in point:

Sure you wanna do this Honey B?

Ale-ale-jandro

Papa-paparazzi

I'm a free bit, baby.

Marina and the Diamonds

2010-05-26T23:55:00.007-04:00

Any song that manages to sound like a Butterfly Boucher-Enya collaboration is worth a listen.

"Numb"

I feel numb most of the time
The lower I get the higher
I'll climb, and I will wonder why
I get dark only to shine.
And I'll light up the sky
Stars that burn the brightest
Fall so fast and pass you by
Spark like empty lighters.

Marina's debut album, The Family Jewels, dropped this week on iTunes. Her wonderfully witty and brash lyrics hover just over the surface of piano driven synth pop gloriousness, channeling the likes of Regina Spektor and Lily Allen. It's an album destined for summer drives under the sun.

You're slaying me, Ben Cooper.

2010-05-06T00:40:00.002-04:00

"Welcome Home"

Sleep don't visit, so I choke on sun
And the days blur into one
And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done

Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline
Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass
Was never much but we made the most
Welcome home

Ships are launching from my chest
Some have names but most do not
If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost

Heal the scars from off my back
I don't need them anymore
You can throw them out or keep them in your mason jars
I've come home

All my nightmares escaped my head
Bar the door, please don't let them in
You were never supposed to leave
Now my head's splitting at the seams
And I don't know if I can

Here, beneath my lungs, I feel your thumbs press into my skin again

The Violent Blue

2010-04-21T03:38:00.006-04:00

I live for those moments when a song finds you in the middle of the night, when it takes hold.

Cherry Cherry Boom Boom

2010-04-20T23:46:00.007-04:00

I sat down tonight to watch something of a mini Lady GaGa marathon on FUSE tv, and not 5 minutes into it a tornado warning was listed for my area. Coincidence? I think not.

I've also taken my fan girl status to new heights with GaGa inspired art.

She'll suck you in, people. She'll suck you in hard.

Lady GaGa + Lissie = one Badass Romance

2010-03-31T01:12:00.003-04:00

"And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

2010-03-20T23:15:00.006-04:00

I'm not gonna lie, I watched this video for 15 straight minutes and cried the entire time.

Dear Nicole Atkins & Brandi Carlile

2010-03-02T23:05:00.004-05:00

Please cover "Crying" together someday. In all likelihood it would probably kill me, but I won't hold it against you.

We're not in Kansas anymore, little monsters.

2010-02-26T23:32:00.008-05:00

I've watched enough Lady GaGa interviews in the past two months to realize we're never really going to know who she is or where it is she's taking us. She'll never lift that veil completely.

When I wrote about my first impressions of her in January, I readily (if somewhat kiddingly) stated my suspicion that she's "secretly running circles around all of us...sucking us into a technicolor tornado--a Willy Wonka tunnel of horrors--and the last little monster standing gets the keys to the Haus and a ride in a rocket ship."

While perusing video footage of her current arena tour in Europe, I found something that brings the biggest grin to my face. I kid you not, GaGa actually has a technicolor tornado, the "rainbow twister" as she calls it, that drops down during her show.

Oh I called that one big time.

You know a song is good

2010-01-15T23:53:00.004-05:00

when it doesn't matter which Ten out of Tennessee member gives it a whirl.

"Rain or Shine," ladies and gents; written and performed by both Trent Dabbs and Matthew Perryman Jones.

"I want this more than life"

2010-01-11T06:46:00.004-05:00

This song, by Australian act Whitley, made my entire chest seize up the other day.

Belief in the breeze,
The smoky morning haze.
The sun on her face,
and the touch of lovers' hands.
The pain that comes today,
Is here, then goes away.

And we are homeward bound,
And I, I want this more than life,
I want this more than life,
I want this more than life.

To touch something real,
Will help your wounds heal,
Like the sun on your face,
The dreams of starry nights.

And we are homeward bound,
And I, I want this more than life,
I want this more than life,
I want this more than life

I want this more than life.

Destination: GaGa

2010-01-08T23:55:00.012-05:00

I'm a latecomer to the Monster Ball. Unfashionably so. A year ago, when you couldn't turn on the radio without hearing "Just Dance" or "Poker Face," I dismissed a certain Miss GaGa as the latest successor to a Pop Princess throne that chews 'em up and spits 'em out faster than a kid going through his Halloween spoils.

How wrong I have been.

Because whether you like and understand her personal brand of gritty avant-garde performance art or not, the girl's talent runs for miles. I didn't make this discovery until sometime in October 2009, when GaGa's fourth single "Paparazzi" finally won me over. While doing an obligatory youtube search for the official video, what I found in its stead left my jaw on the floor.

Do you see it now? You have to. The miles.

Naysayers call her a waste. Actually they call her much more and not that nicely. She's such a polarizing figure, yet I can't find an unkind thing to say about her or a reason to. I'm far too fascinated by her aesthetic and the way she engages a world wholey immersed in rules and taboos designed to keep radical behavior in check, where this love is Holy and that love is vile, this murder is PG-13 but that sex scene is NC-17.

I have this sneaky suspicion she's secretly running circles around all of us ($10 says her IQ is through the roof), sucking us into a technicolor tornado--a Willy Wonka tunnel of horrors--and the last little monster standing gets the keys to the Haus and a ride in a rocket ship. And that's what you have to realize about Lady GaGa. This whole energy she's created and puts on display, it's not reality and it's not necessarily supposed to be. Her current tour, The Monster Ball, is a self-described "electro-pop opera" based entirely on what's become a fusive manifestation of pop, performance art, and fashion.

Special thanks to Benjamin for the Monster Ball footage. Click to enlarge.

It's more escapism, really, than shock treatment--a panic room emptied of anything to remind you of the outside world, of work in the morning or the phone bill lying on the kitchen counter. A space where, for two hours, there are no parameters for who you have to be or how you should act (save that you don't bum-rush the stage and ruin the mirage). Ever how unconventional her "post-apocalyptic house party" is, it makes for one helluva show. And I simply can't fault a 23 year old with that much vision, drive and audacity. So...

long live the GaGa.

light my way, Virginia May

2009-07-09T01:17:00.006-04:00

Gregory Alan Isakov is all whispers and moonlight, big skies and distant whippoorwills. Determinedly unassuming and a little shy, there's something endearing about the way he sends a song settling into the cracks of a room. The way his voice, like dust in the air, hangs suspended in stage lights in a slow motion free fall.

Eyes closed, face pointed ever skyward, there's no expectation of raucous applause--just a need to tell a story, that it might find a bruised heart or two. And when he finally ducks into the waiting shadows you're aware suddenly that, apart from breathing, you've barely moved.

His latest offering, This Empty Northern Hemisphere, has been a near nightly companion for me since returning from the Pacific Northwest almost three weeks ago. I was there to catch the end of a certain Miss Carlile's acoustic tour, for which Gregory (and violinist Jeb Bows) had been opening. I walked away on the last night in Portland, Oregon with a signed copy of Hemisphere having refused to accept the change he owed me for the cd. I placed the $5 back into its metal box which sat next to a plain brown briefcase with a bold sticker emblazened across the top; it read: God Bless Johnny Cash.

God Bless Gregory Alan Isakov

She can sing anything sweeter than you.

2009-04-28T21:16:00.008-04:00

I fell in love with Les Miserables as a 17 year old study abroad student in London. I remember sitting wide-eyed that mid-July night, mesmerized by the sound coming off that West End stage--the way it bounced off the ceiling right above the peanut gallery where our little group of American teenagers was sitting. The original cast recording is one of the first things I bought when I came home, and eight years later it still brings me great joy.

And so, when a woman named Susan Boyle wooed the internet earlier this month with a performance of "I Dreamed A Dream" from Les Mis, I felt compelled to listen. To say it is deeply moving is putting it very plainly. The song by itself is heartbreaking; put it in the hands of someone with a voice and you suddenly can't move. Two minutes in there is a key change that I swear to God is 30 seconds of some of the most glorious music you will ever hear. And in watching the various videos floating around youtube, I came across a clip I hadn't seen in years--of a very pretty girl in a monstrous blonde wig playing the part of Fantine in the Tenth Anniversary Concert (the dream cast as it was billed).

The pretty girl, I have since learned, is West End theatre royalty. Her name is Ruthie Henshall and she is 5 feet 3 inches of veritable wonder.

The voice that comes out of that woman is not altogether of this world, I'm convinced of that. She herself will tell you she truly believes her voice is God sent, and even the skeptic in me has to think she might be onto something, given her very limited formal training. It's all Ruthie, baby! And if the video above hasn't yet made you a believer, I present to you Rhae's List of Ruthie Henshall Performances She Absolutely Cannot Stop Watching:

Maybe This Time

Send In The Clowns

All That Jazz

Anything You Can Do

Plus the 200+ other videos on youtube, but I digress.

In researching Ruthie what surprised me the most is how downright charming and self-depricating she is. From what little I gather based on the few interviews I've heard and read, she's instantly likeable--just terribly lovely and delightfully British (I could listen to her talk for days). If you go to her myspace page and look at the photos, you'll find that 3/4 of them are pictures with fans, and in every single one she looks pleased as punch that people like her enough to wait for her beside a stage door. Now, I work in theater as a stagehand so I know something about the attitudes, hissy fits and general drama you sometimes see from actors--this bubble of superiority that pops up out of nowhere. That someone of Ruthie's stature doesn't come with all of that mess makes her twice as endearing in my eyes.

So I have to thank Susan Boyle, not only for her remarkable performance, but for being the reason I now know there's a Ruthie Henshall in the world. Britain's got talent indeed.

will paint for bragging rights

2008-11-16T23:55:00.006-05:00

I had to do a double take when I saw The Killers' new album cover last week. I wish they had commissioned me to paint it since the technique is one of the few I can pull off really well. If anyone needs some awesome cover art and wants to look like they're copying The Killers, I'm available is all I'm saying.

songs that slay me

2008-11-11T01:27:00.003-05:00

No one writes a sad song quite like a native son of Seattle, or even a transplant like Eddie Vedder. It's all that rain--the way it gets in your eyes, keeping the mountains from view.

Long Nights

Guaranteed

Kenny White

2008-10-05T22:20:00.003-04:00

If you ever find yourself walking through Central Park on a warm autumn day while the sun spills through leaves that are destined to fall, promise me you'll listen to Kenny White and turn your face to the sky.

He is equal parts Elvis Costello and Shawn Mullins, and the combination is something so reassuring you could lie down next to it and find a friend.

commencing countdown, engines on

2008-09-27T00:53:00.000-04:00

My indie-loving sister just introduced me to this commercial which I have managed to never lay eyes on before now. It features Cat Power covering one of the coolest songs of all time--David Bowie's "Space Oddity." Have a listen.

While you're at it, check out the original.

Cat Power has an EP coming out soon, though I haven't been able to find a release date yet. I'm really, really hoping this cover will be included.

Ray LaMontagne fans rejoice!

2008-09-21T01:30:00.000-04:00

NPR is showcasing a new song from Ray's forthcoming album Gossip In The Grain on their program All Songs Considered. The song is "Meg White" and it's wonderful in all its toe-tapping Beatleness.

Meg White is, of course, 1/2 of The White Stripes along with ex-husband Jack White who gets a shout out in the song as well: "Meg White/Baby, you're the bomb/Oh Jackie's great, don't get me wrong/But this is your song."

Gossip In The Grain will be released October 14.

I love Mary Carillo.

2008-09-17T19:54:00.000-04:00

And this is why.

The woman trips me out and her travelogues were one of the highlights of NBC's coverage of the Beijing Olympic Games:

Intrepid Diner

How Big How High

Panda Babymaking

Why Girls Fly So High

A Powerful Healer

Crazy For Kites

Logo's meaning, significance

falling into place

2008-09-11T11:00:00.000-04:00

Dara Torres was the story of the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games for me.

You know who she is--the 40-something Mom-lympian who qualified for the 2008 U.S. swim team (and a record fifth Olympics) wearing goggles older than some of her competitors. The woman is a marvel.

Her performance at the U.S. Olympic Swim Trials in Omaha this past July left commentators spellbound and speechless, grasping wildly for words to describe what they were seeing. Defying all expectations, Dara won both the 100m and 50m freestyle finals--swimming's fastest events. To top it off she set her 9th American Record in the 50; her first set at the age of 15. Her friend Rowdy Gaines may have said it best when he declared in a frenzied voice, "Does anybody realize what just happened?!"

And thus it was that on a warm night in July a star was reborn, launching a thousand hopes and enamoring a generation with her quick smile and jaw dropping determination.

With legions of new fans watching her every move in Beijing, Dara rewrote the history books again and again. To quote Alan Abrahamson (I love the way he writes about her), "This is what Dara Torres accomplished at these 2008 Olympics:"

--She is now the only swimmer who has won a medal in five Olympics
--She added three silver to her impressive medal count, which now stands at 12 and ties her with Jenny Thompson for most medals won by an American woman
--Her three events were the 4x100 freestyle relay, 50m freestyle, and 4x100 medley relay (she anchored both relays)
--Her 50m time of 24.07 is her 10th American Record for the event and was one-hundredth of a second too slow for gold (that is close, boys and girls)
--Her 4x100 medley time of 52.27 is the fastest freestyle relay split of all time; even more notable, she had less than 4 minutes to prepare for the medley after getting off the medal stand for the 50 free

If all that hasn't impressed you, consider the following: Dara began her comeback for these Games mere months after giving birth to her daughter which, let's be frank here, is like pushing the equivalent of a bowling ball out of your uterus. In what came as a major emotional blow, Torres's swimming coach, Michael Lohberg, was diagnosed with a rare blood disease in the last few days before the Games and was unable to travel to Beijing. Dara confesses that in the days following his diagnosis she was an emotional wreck and considered leaving the U.S. training camp in Palo Alto to be by his side. Michael wouldn't hear of it. To add insult to injury (quite literally) it has since come to light that Torres began experiencing severe shoulder pain while in Beijing and was afraid she might not be able to compete. When all the options presented to her fell short, she simply swam through the pain. Barely a week after returning to the States she had surgery on her right shoulder to remove arthritis around her AC joint and to shave the outer end of her collarbone. It is mind-boggling to consider the odds she has overcome and fought through on top of the challenges presented by her age. I just, for one day, would like to possess in my entire body the amount of talent and drive that Dara has in her right pinkie finger; it would probably be more than you or I could ever acquire in a lifetime.

Her superhuman image faltered only once in Beijing. I missed the coverage of the 50m finals due to a concert out of town but managed to turn the hotel TV on in time to catch the beginning of the medal ceremony. I remember holding my breath, not knowing how the race had turned out, and then watching her take the stand below Britta Steffen visibly fighting back tears while the German anthem played. My heart ached for her. Absolutely ached. If I had been sitting in the room by myself, I probably would have cried. I have since gone back and watched footage of the race, and as they all exploded into the wall you could actually hear commentator Rowdy Gaines's heart sink as he realized Dara had come so close to what would have been ultimate Olympic glory for her--her first individual gold.

(Photo by Al Bello/Getty Images AsiaPac)

But don't close the book just yet. Dara has hinted in more than one post-Olympic interview that she isn't ready to throw in her towel and might even be setting her sights on the World Swimming Championships in Rome next year. I hope so. I happen to believe she'll blow the roof off the place.

Even if we have seen the last glorious days of Dara Torres's unprecedented swimming career, she has become a beacon of all that is possible and inspired multi-generations to look themselves in the mirror and ask a single, boundless question: What Would Dara Do?

You are what you listen to.

2008-09-09T21:00:00.000-04:00

Adrian North, a professor at Heriot-Watt University in Scotland, has been studying the link between one's personality and music preferences. He says, "People often define their sense of identity through their musical taste, wearing particular clothes, going to certain pubs, and using certain types of slang. It's not surprising that personality should also be related to musical preference."

After surveying over 36,000 participants world wide, some of his conclusions are as follows:

--Jazz and classical music fans are creative and have good self-esteem
--Country and western fans are hardworking and shy
--Rap fans are outgoing
--Indie fans lack self-esteem and aren't particularly gentle (I'm not real sure what that means either)

For more information on the study, read Michael Holden's full article here.

If you're interested in participating in Professor North's ongoing research, this website is for you.

LIGHTS!

2008-09-02T01:38:00.001-04:00

Long lost Corrs sister Valerie Poxleitner is Canada's new electro ambient synth pop sensation. Performing under the moniker Lights, this headband sporting songstress is experiencing unbridled popularity. Enlisted by Old Navy earlier this year to be the soundtrack for their spring collection, the clothes conglomerate featured her in no less than four ad spots which aired between February and May.

"February Air"

"White"

"Drive My Soul"

"The Last Thing On Your Mind"

This last commercial is what caught my attention one afternoon in May. It was one of those moments where you have the tv on for background noise while you do the dishes and then all of a sudden a song makes you snap your head around and wonder how in the world you managed to survive without ever hearing it before. I love those moments--live for them.

It's nearly impossible to find much information on the girl, who's barely out of her teens (she's 21) and writes music in her bedroom using sound-banks from her keyboard and computer. But here are a few revealing interviews that are worth the read; she's quite the intriguing character.

Chart Attack

Patrol Mag

Punk TV

Teen Flare

Be on the look-out for her in the States this fall. She'll be doing a Verizon sponsored campus tour with Cute Is What We Aim For and Boys Like Girls.

Her six song EP, which includes the four tracks above, can be found on iTunes; it will hit stores September 23 for all you people who enjoy having music you can hold. I hope you'll check her out. She's sort of like your first adventure with cotton candy.

L to the P

2008-01-21T01:47:00.000-05:00

Under the heading Girls Who Rock, there is a name still visibly absent from the fray, which is a shame, because I happen to know of a singer who could probably knock over walls with her larger-than-life voice.

New York based rocker L.P. has been on my radar for a little over 2 years, and I am making a personal bet right here and now that her third album (due out in 2008) will be turning more than a few heads. This girl rocks, and she rocks hard.

I'm almost hesitant to make vocal comparisons because I don't want to diminish how unique she is, but alas. Of the fierce vocalists who come to mind, she sounds most like Gwen Stefani circa 1995's Tragic Kingdom; but you will not believe the range L.P. has, even after hearing it. Lyrically and aritistically, L.P. is the indie rock soprano to Brandi Carlile's country-tinged alto. Both artists write straight at things with disarming, brooding honesty; but whereas Brandi performs from somewhere behind her immense brown eyes and all they've seen, L.P. sings from the very core of her being, as if casting out demons. In the words of Steve Morrison, "She sings every song like it's the last thing she'll ever do." And though L.P. often sounds as if she's pushing her voice beyond its breaking point and doing irreparable damage, according to her bio she has spent years and years shaping her voice by studying with opera coaches and rock specialists.

L.P's first album--2001's Heart Shaped Scar--is a Janis Joplin esque free for all which met with nominal success, and, ironically, has all the musical stylings of a Southern rock album. Newly armed with two additional guitarists, a bassist and obligatory drummer, 2004's Suburban Sprawl & Alcohol is a different creature entirely. More urgent, self-assured, tangible, and expectant, Sprawl is absolutely dripping with anthemic intensity. Break out hit "Wasted" (take note Brandi fans) was chosen as the theme song for the television series South of Nowhere. And even heavier numbers such as "Cadillac Life," "Nowhere," and the title track will seep into your bones and stay there for days. Of course I can only vouch for my own experience, but it took one listen for me to "want to trade my Chevy for a Cadillac life and drive on and on."

If her newly released single "Good With You" is any indication, however, L.P.'s sound has reached epic proportions, with flourishes of strings, piano and driving bass. She reaches for notes hidden in the stratosphere and sends them crashing to earth with bewildering ease.

In a year of promising upcoming releases, L.P. is an artist to watch.

A Fine Frenzy

2008-01-18T06:07:00.001-05:00

Alison Sudol, bless her bookish heart, is something out of a Ray LaMontagne song: all whispered, delicate and intense. She's a modern day Alice caught in her very own Wonderland, with shocking red hair and a voice that's taking her places you've probably never heard of. And though she isn't chasing talking rabbits (none that she's admitted to at least), Sudol still seems to have stumbled almost unwittingly into a frenzied world that's opening right beneath her feet.

A high school graduate at the age of 16, Alison all but personifies one of the harsher lessons from classic episodes of Sesame Street: one of these things is not like the others. The now 22 year old readily admits to being aloof as a child, but that reservation seems to be the very cornerstone and catalyst of her talent. "I was very shy and wasn't good with human interaction, so I immersed myself with books," she says. "I could always find beauty, hope, comfort or excitement in adventure."

Sudol's music is virtually colored with literary influences. Much like any young person who's spent their childhood in a book, she has learned to write not in words, but images; and in so doing, she is able not only to tell you a story but place it right before your eyes. "The paths have been crossed/the crumbs are gone and the way/and the way is lost," she sings in "Rangers," which is a delicious romp of a song and one of her gems.

Her sound has drawn obvious comparisons to other female pianists, but beyond the instrument connection the comparison runs a little shallow. I liken her more as a quirky, whimsical blend of California girl group The Like and the always eclectic Eisley. You simply won’t see this girl coming. Her breezy vocals weave seamlessly over and through a soundscape of some of the prettiest piano pop that's surfaced in recent years. And you get the very real sense that if she and Rufus Wainwright were ever locked in a studio together, the resulting goodness would probably make you weak in the knees.

As impressive as her debut album is in scope and quality, you’ll want to see Alison in person in order to appreciate the true range of her voice. During a stop in Atlanta in late 2007 as the special guest on a VH1 “You Oughta Know” tour, she was nothing if not endearing. Her piano was placed so precariously close to the edge of the stage that she was practically performing from the first row, but she was all smiles and giggles--clearly thrilled to have found an audience who were willing to listen so intently.

Barely out of her teens, Alison’s talent is profound. Foregoing the college route in order to immerse herself in music, writing and voice lessons, she wrote all of the music and lyrics you hear on One Cell In The Sea. “There's so much about life you can't learn from a book," she says. "You have to be in it, see it and live it.”

I would love to predict big things for Alison Sudol and her infectious, captivating melodies she calls A Fine Frenzy. She’s a goofy kid with a touching penchant for the surreal, and if the powers that be will let us follow her a while, there’s no telling where this rabbit hole might take us.
__________________________________

A Fine Interview by my pal Maureen Palli

The Story--Brandi Carlile

2008-01-18T05:35:00.000-05:00

Brandi Carlile's Story is an adventure in vulnerable honesty. Armed with a voice for the ages and brown eyes that never lie, The Story is one of those albums that is equally uplifting and heart-wrenching. Like the mountains and crystal streams she calls home in Washington state, her thunderous voice is something that has to be felt to be understood. Flanked by her musical soul mates, Tim and Phil Hanseroth, Brandi lays bare her truth in such a painful and earnest manner that every imperfection seems perfectly placed. Much like the steady Seattle rain that seems to permeate every song, there is a quiet clarity that accompanies every listen to this album-as if the final chord of "Again Today" is a promise of forgotten sunshine.

What many people don't realize is that a number of songs on the album--"Turpentine," "My Song," and "Wasted"--were written when Brandi was a teenager and are deeply personal accounts of her tumultuous relationship with her younger brother. Whereas early versions of these songs could barely contain the hurt and fury in her voice, the versions recorded during an 11 day session with T-Bone Burnett were born from a need to send them out into the world as sung by a woman who has finally found her place.

Other reviews have labeled the album too melancholy and angst filled, but you have to know a little more about Brandi Carlile than what's been written in articles to realize The Story is filled with hope and demons long since overcome. This, her sophomore release, is a chapter in her life she wanted preserved for all time; and once you know that, these songs become yours as much as they are hers.

The most vulnerable moment on the album comes two minutes and 53 seconds into the title track. Furious at T-Bone Burnett for not letting her play guitar while recording her vocals, she decided, in her words, to "bring it." What happens at that magic mark is nothing short of what makes Brandi Carlile such an endearing vocalist-her voice breaks. "The Story," when performed live, is a transcendental experience; but if you've never stood in front of her, 2:53 into the album version is the closest you will ever come to understanding why any imperfection of hers is anything other than flaw.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the genius that is the Hanseroth twins. There is a bond between Brandi and those boys that is so strong you can almost see it. They exist in a universe of their own creation-more beautiful than the one in which we mortal souls tread-and the day they stop performing will be the day that universe collapses upon itself.

The moral of The Story? Buy it.
_______________________________

This album review was first published July 3, 2007 on SplashTone

hoping words will fall

2008-01-18T01:00:00.000-05:00

My grandfather used to say I walked around as if I was climbing a mountain--head down, always pushing forward--and though I don't live near them, I consider a trip to north Georgia's Appalachian Mountains the equivalent of going home.

At 23, I reach for a ballpoint pen whenever I find a story or an image or a word worth setting in the light. In the posts that follow I hope to share my experiences and discoveries, and the music that shapes my world.

So this one's for the quiet child and anyone who's ever wanted to wake up with California sun in their hair.