When I entered the TLA on Wednesday night, I experienced a slight feeling of déjà vu. And it wasn’t even just that I had been there the night before to see Bloc Party. No, it was because I was there to see British retro-soul singer Duffy, whose sound harkens back to Dionne Warwick during the Burt Bacharach years, or Dusty Springfield, if you need me to compare her to a white person to restore the cosmic balance. The singer, who is part of the cavalcade of voices who entered the door opened by Amy Winehouse before she became a babbling crack whore, released a stellar debut album named Rockferry this year, and though she is not known for her showmanship, she is certainly known for having a voice that can make grown men spill beer all over themselves in admiration…or maybe that was just me.
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Continue reading "Duffy: Totally Cooler Than That MTV One"
The last time I saw Cat Power perform was the first and only time I saw the entire Trocadero fall in love at once. Her voice and her persona could only be described as haunting yet powerful. Some people showed in the hopes that she'd fall apart, as she has been wont to do, but a lot happens in a decade. Much more centered by the time The Greatest dropped, Chan Marshall prowled the stage like a sexy animal that was caged no longer.
Continue reading "Tonight: The Greatest"
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