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Carolyn Currie
Kiss of Ghosts
Etherian Music 7702-2
By Bonny Holder
 I'll
come clean right now. Carolyn Currie offered, and I accepted,
what we, in the moral days of olden times, called "payola."
Her CD came packaged with a tube of "Kiss of Ghosts"
lip balm, and a silky sky-blue fabric bag to keep it in.
Nobody has ever sent me anything before to entice me to listen
to his or her album. I was not sure whether to be righteously
indignant, or just ignore the CD like I do dozens of others.
Thing is, it's been a dry autumn, and my lips were a little brittle.
Besides, "Kiss of Ghosts Lip Balm" was a clever idea,
yes? And one thing led to another, and, I glossed. And
then, I felt kind of crass, so I thought, OK fine, I'll listen
to the CD, but if I don't like it, I won't review it.
Well, dang. I liked it a lot, certainly enough to listen
to it the five times I always play a CD before forming an opinion.
First thing I noticed was that Ms. Currie is very east coast.
I like New England musicians, in part because they are so different
from Texas musicians, in the sense that a good lobster bisque
compares to a hearty crawfish e'touffe. Neither sound is better,
but they are different. New Englanders use flute and violin where
westerners use steel guitar and fiddle. Some of the songs have
a kind of parlor-music flavor, with the cello and guitar strings
sounding disciplined, melodious, and floaty.
I read her promo, and learned that she is originally from
Concord, Massachusetts. All you transcendentalists alert! She
came from the hometown of my personal goddess, Louisa May Alcott,
as well as that handsome, wordy fellow Ralph Waldo Emerson, and
the memorable Thoreau bros, Hank and Jack. I'm not making fun
of these folks; I'm really well read in this genre! Concord is
stately, tree-ish, established, and if you idealize antique-but-thriving
little villages?, Concord is the poster town for that.
I thought, "here is a woman who comes from a place where
words really matter." And indeed, her lyrics include
some very singular imagery, such as this from "Breath of
the River":
Well, I've never seen a moon like that,
Shining naked through the trees.
Were you deceived by the burning white reflection
Which robbed the light that might have come from me?
Falling up, did it feel like falling up?
Falling up to meet a lover?*
And this, from "Snapshots":
The girl with the hobo bag and long golden hair
Holds her back at an angle that says 'I don't care.'
And her eyelids wear colors that match a long skirt,
And her breasts are like grapes tucked up under her shirt.
There's a guy on the train who pretends he's engrossed
By the paperback novel instead of the ghost
Of the girl who slides by, and then falls on the seat
And the story goes on to young love at nineteen.
Vocally, Carolyn Currie leans to the Melanie Safka/Karen Peris/gentler
Stevie Nicks side of the fence. Her voice is lovely, and suited
perfectly to her accompaniment, including her own guitar work,
Roberta Hansen Downey on cello, Paul Elliott on fiddle, David
Lange on keyboards (yay David), along with Hanz Araki, Mark Ivester
and Dan Mohler.
The ghosts spoken of in these songs are the kind of memory
and longing, but they're not sad or sappy. I want to write "crystalline,"
but I don't want you to read it as "wimpy." This is
a strong woman, refined but passionate. I can't speak for Nathaniel
Hawthorne, you know? but I think he would like this music as
much as I do.
www.carolyncurrie.com
You can contact Bonny Holder at bonny-at-rockzilla.net
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