For the Love of Music
torontoindie.com
March 8, 2007
By: Amanda Terfloth
After an unusually quick trek across Queen to the Gladstone’s Art Bar, I found a primo seat next to a pile of instrument cases in the back. Anyone familiar with the size of the venue knows that it is both an acoustic blessing and a seating curse.
The tiny wood-floored room provided just the right amount of reverb for Ms. Rhaye’s soulful vocals—at least it would have if it didn’t have to compete with the cacophony of the Melody Bar’s infamous karaoke night next door. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Gladstone, but the adjoining wall needs more soundproofing. It was painful to hear the attentive silence of the audience punctured by drunken wails of “Here I go again on my OWNNN” from next door.
In spite of the noisy distraction, the audience did its best to focus, and in the moments when the din quieted, Rhaye’s melodic voice entranced everyone in the room. It was the same stripped-down voice that seduced me upon listening to 80 EPKs in a row—not the work of a clever sound engineer. Rhaye’s storytelling approach to songwriting and affable personality meshed well in a live setting, as she connected the dots and personal inspirations behind her lyrics, including the tale of haunted east-coast dwelling she once inhabited.
It takes more than a great voice to charm an audience; a little sincerity and soul like Rhaye’s go a long way.
It’s possible to love karaoke and professional vocals—just not simultaneously, unless you’re one of the few eagerly anticipating a William Hung / Robert Plant collaboration.
Ooooo and it makes me wonder.
torontoindie.com
March 8, 2007
By: Amanda Terfloth
After an unusually quick trek across Queen to the Gladstone’s Art Bar, I found a primo seat next to a pile of instrument cases in the back. Anyone familiar with the size of the venue knows that it is both an acoustic blessing and a seating curse.
The tiny wood-floored room provided just the right amount of reverb for Ms. Rhaye’s soulful vocals—at least it would have if it didn’t have to compete with the cacophony of the Melody Bar’s infamous karaoke night next door. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Gladstone, but the adjoining wall needs more soundproofing. It was painful to hear the attentive silence of the audience punctured by drunken wails of “Here I go again on my OWNNN” from next door.
In spite of the noisy distraction, the audience did its best to focus, and in the moments when the din quieted, Rhaye’s melodic voice entranced everyone in the room. It was the same stripped-down voice that seduced me upon listening to 80 EPKs in a row—not the work of a clever sound engineer. Rhaye’s storytelling approach to songwriting and affable personality meshed well in a live setting, as she connected the dots and personal inspirations behind her lyrics, including the tale of haunted east-coast dwelling she once inhabited.
It takes more than a great voice to charm an audience; a little sincerity and soul like Rhaye’s go a long way.
It’s possible to love karaoke and professional vocals—just not simultaneously, unless you’re one of the few eagerly anticipating a William Hung / Robert Plant collaboration.
Ooooo and it makes me wonder.