1 a.m. Tonight I’ve remembered to bring the second blanket in, and I am very comfy. This afternoon was sunny and warm, and I’m glad I packed so diversely. I’ve been in a heavy winter coat, driven through snow, been in short sleeves, and rain boots.
Gina’s voice is voluptuous, answering the new wave of Sara Bareilles and Regina Spektor wanna-bes with something much more Carole King (I have a small bouncy moment of personal pride when I check and find I spelled all three of those names correctly without internet assistance). Ahem. So, this is a richer, more old-school form of heartbreak and seduction. She’s still pop, catchy … hell, even that “c” word so many of us cringe as we crave: commercial. But here is a woman’s voice singing a woman’s songs, something I think we’ve gotten too far away from in the quirky, mousy girl voice that has become the rage just as the whiny emo tenor has taken vocal prom king for the boys now.
I exempt recent stage comrade, Devon Sproule, when I speak about this sort of voice. She has a scratchy bluegrass thing going on she uses to tell a story. I’m not into vocal gadgetry except if you’re going to use it to tell a story. My favorite female voices right now are Gina, fellow Lillith competitor, Moriah Harris (http://www.myspace.com/moriahharris), Pittsburgh’s Joy Ike (http://www.myspace.com/joyike), Devon for reasons above, our New York friend Kelly Zullo (http://www.facebook.com/kelly.zullo) for her unexpected soprano, Paramore’s Hayley Williams for her power, live delivery and niche within her genre, and actually Katie Perry, Lady Gaga and Pink, who keep it more interesting on the radio. Florence and the Machine are becoming a favorite after she floored me with her VMA performance.
So Gina helped me weather what felt like a long night at Victoria Station. I played about two hours with a break between. It was a mix of almost my entire new cd, Samples, along with some unreleased me stuff (Phantom, Waste), and a few of my ilyAIMY contributions, including Simile Blue, which I love to play there because the live recording was done there. The song that went over best was The Winter Bride, which I wrote on the patio outside Victoria Station a few months ago and performed that first night to audience snapping in rhythm since I’d not yet picked up a ukulele. Turned out to be a cute way to end the first set. Earlier in the night, I soundchecked to a little girl wearing red, sparkly mary janes. I couldn’t help it … I gave her my red sparkly uke to hold for just a second.
I got there early and was happy to find that Point Street was in fact just the other side of Wickenden Street, where artist and i love you And I Miss You original member, Will Schaff used to live. Because of that, this is where we spent our early years visiting Providence. Playing Café Zog on that street is where tracks from the ilyAIMY live album feature the voices of Jason Slanga and Cat Blackistone, who came up to visit us. We all piled into the apartment of Rob Spector that night. Now, I haven’t heard from any of those three in a year.
Everyone who gets the disc hits me up later and tells me how good it is, and for the first time in a long time, I believe them. It is good. However, doing the songs live, especially since I am not reinforcing a lot of them at ilyAIMY shows, is intimidating and naked as Hell. Tonight in Providence, I felt more exposed than the tasseled burlesque dancer who took the stage at the end of the night as I was loading out my gear. Don’t worry, I’ll come back to her later.
Becky Chace (http://www.beckychace.com/fr_home.cfm) is the queen of the Providence music scene, and when I ask her who she is most proud to have opened for, she says B.B. King. A hard-working musician who was voted favorite female vocalist there five times, we met her hosting an open mic at Tazza many years back. She kindly agreed to let me open for her trio show at Girlspot, the lesbian night at Gallery on Point Street, which was to be followed by a burlesque show.
But that street is also where they have the good pizza at Fellini’s that is the only thing open in that part of Providence after 10pm. And it’s where rob and I created the phrase, “Click, click, zoom, netgun,” to describe an incredibly beautiful woman who’s strawberry blonde short curls made her look like an angel coasting downhill on her bicycle. I’ve bought keys from the antique shop that became necklaces, and rob bought art supplies from the store there that became album covers. Providence is one of those towns that keep my memory company.
I found the sushi restaurant there and had a couple rolls and some soup while texting rob, who was making butternut squash lasagna in North Carolina with Kristen. A quick e-mail check and off to the venue.
I struggled to figure out what to play for the sizable bar crowd that had come to hang. Ask for Me to open, while the bar wasn’t too crowded and I could get away with it. Message in a Bottle since Becky said they did a good bit of covers for this one, and it’s one she was unlikely to have in her repertoire. For example, Folsom Prison and even Ani DiFranco’s Overlap – both songs I cover – where part of her and Marcy Lang’s (http://www.myspace.com/marcylang) arsenal. Ok, the murder ballad and The Weight for songs off the new disc. Your Eyes for another cover. Save Love A Girl to close so I have the biggest crowd I’m going to get and finish strong. I’d wanted to try The Winter Bride on uke again, but I didn’t think I could get away with it in the bar setting.
Dear reader, just so you know, the crowds do not always fall at my feet, not even when they are made up of women who might find me cute or might relate to me more directly. I got cheers, a few laughs, but I did not move mountains (and I have done that before, at both the open mics coming east this tour). Sold one CD. I’m not really complaining. I got to hear Becky, sit in with her a little, did a little audition for a future show, advertised for rob’s and my return to Victoria Station. And I made enough money to keep me afloat. The ladies kicked ass and I was proud to share the stage with them. Becky was so impressed and inquisitive about my time spent with Dar Williams, but Becky Chace and Marcy Lang are rock stars and no fan girls, that’s for sure.
Don’t forget to take the movie back to the redbox, Heather, I remind myself as I start to think about leaving for Boston.
Tonight I’m the last of three women performing at our old haunt, The Burren, where Tom Bianchi and Danielle Miraglia run the Sunday songwriter series there in the back room. And I’m going to crash with Michael Berkowitz, now all Boston himself. I’m less nervous about this. The sound is always good. People listen. And the venue and people are familiar.
