Postcards from Folk Alliance 2017, Episode 4
Thursday, February 16, 9:15pm – Friday, February 17 1:45am
The great thing about an event like Folk Alliance is that it gives you a chance to connect with people you might not normally connect with. For example: I got to speak with the talented team from Bluegrass Situation, I introduced myself to musicians Sam Lee and Sam Gleaves, I was introduced to Lindsay Lou of Lindsay Lou and the Flatbellys (and made an idiot of myself, too – “Did you do something different with your hair? You look different than you do on your website.” Oh Elena), I shook hands with Kaia Kater and stared longingly after Jimmy LaFave as he wandered through the hotel lobby.
Plus, I saw a great shirt. And sometimes a great shirt can just make your day.
Besides that, I heard brand spanking new music from the very talented Suzie Ungerleider, aka Oh Susanna. She’s working on a new album, one inspired by her childhood in Vancouver and the songs she played tonight were, indeed, absolutely filled with the longing, lust, heartbreak and heartache that only a teenager can feel. Her voice is strong and clear, the kind of voice you hear and the kind of voice that makes you think to yourself, “This woman absolutely OWNS this room.” She did – she had the audience singing along with her off and on throughout her set and it was clear that she could have played for much longer than she did and kept our rapt attention.
It was a tough act to follow, but I jumped headlong into the Thursday night fray and went to hear a band called Hermitage Green. This 5-piece band from Limerick bills itself as a group playing “Irish acoustic folk rock.” Take out the “acoustic” and the “folk” and you’ve got what I heard tonight. “It’s going to be loud,” I said to myself as they finished up their sound check. They were fun – and clearly talented, playing lots of different kinds of guitars and percussion instruments – but since I did not bring earplugs and wasn’t at a bar with 200 of my closest friends, I wasn’t too keen on the vibrations I could feel rumbling through my chest when they started. I left halfway through their set.
For a complete change of pace after my Irish rockers, I climbed the stairs to the 5th floor – one of the designated “music floors” – and went to hear William Prince. Swoon, hearts, flowers, sighs. From Winnipeg, Manitoba, this guy has a sound that will destroy you if you let it. Not only does Prince has an absolutely gorgeous, pitch perfect, baritone-bass voice, a voice that sounds like fine-grit sandpaper coated in velvet, he sings about the harsh realities of life in such a way that your heart longs to reach out to comfort his. Singing songs from his most recent recording, Earthly Day, he encouraged his audience to eat out of his hand…I mean sing along with him. Does he want us to participate, to feel connected to him and his music, to be moved? If so, he succeeds.
Banjoist and singer/songwriter Kaia Kater played tonight, too. Here’s what I kept thinking during her entire set: “How in the world can someone this young have the kind of life experience and knowledge that she has? How does she KNOW about these things?” She’s utterly convincing in everything she does – the phrase “older than her years” is definitely appropriate when it comes to Kaia Kater and the incredibly mature view she has of the world. I did notice that she either wasn’t mic’ed properly or maybe isn’t quite sure exactly how to use the mic to her best advantage but, frankly, who cares? She’s awesome, in every sense of the word and if you HAVEN’T checked out Folk Alley’s exclusive session with her – do it right now. Immediately. Don’t waste another moment NOT knowing about Kaia Kater.
Other acts of note that I heard and saw tonight: the sister act Annie Oakley, a band that has a very interesting back story (check out the video – HERE) and a band that I’ll be curious to hear again in a couple of years and Portland, Maine based singer Caroline Cotter, who has a voice that doesn’t sound like anyone else’s, a voice that makes you want to lean in real close to hear what she has to say.