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Bonfire Madigan / Rykarda Parasol Café Du Nord December 10, 2003 Review by Shannon Coulter I suspect that the damn fine time I had at Cafe Du Nord this Wednesday had something to do with the sterling mix of singer-songwriters that Annie Southworth chose for Women's Performance Night. Rykarda Parasol has an authentic storyteller's voice--an eerie, expansive, lost highway kind of voice, with undercurrents of bourbon and swagger. Her sexy EP has been in regular rotation at my place for a couple of weeks, making bedroom eyes while it tells noirish tales of a dangerous South. Given how confidently it seduces, I was a little suprised by how stoic Rykarda's life performance was. She played guitar almost solemnly--a stylish American Gothic, and although it added to her mystique, I admit wanting to see some of the warmth and raciness I could hear in that bluesy Siouxsie voice. Rykarda's cover of "She's Like Heroin" deserves special mention for the cascading, falling leaf motions it makes along the lines of the Gun Club's urban shanty. Political righteousness can turn music heavier than a drunk uncle, but in the hands of Madigan Shive (aka Bonfire Madigan), it's good kindling. Choosing an "incendiary" set as a tribute to Matt Gonzalez, her indignation was channeled mightily into imaginative songs via breathy, animated vocals. I'm not normally a fan of music that is even remotely Difrancoesque, but was charmed by Madigan's crooning and growling and especially the more fluid of her cello arrangements. My boyfriend nominated her performance the most original of the evening, and her obvious willingness to connect with the audience made it the most intimate one too. Odessa Chen's set was the mountaintop off of which which we snorted line after line of the freshly fallen snow that is her voice. While the songs were lyrically somewhat undifferentiated, the purity and potency of that voice meant that she could have sung out dictionary definitions and we would have gladly hoovered up the wintery goodness. She played guitar gorgeously too, and I look forward to another ascent up Mount Odessa sometime soon. Caroleen Beatty and Sunny Haire of Waycross sang songs that were subtle but sweeping--songs that take obvious pleasure in their own slowly expanding metaphors. Each one built to a lustrous climax and Du Nordics basked in the dusky glory. Like the young catalpa tree after which her first album was named, a current of vital sap runs through the music of Jolie Holland. Listening to her sing, I decided that her bowed, irregular phrasing is more than just distinctive; it is the heavy accent of ability--the gravitational pull of a talent that distorts language to a point where it becomes aural sculpture. "Your light was so pure--I could hear the door of our fate creaking ajar." While it's easy to pick out lines as lovely as that one, it's impossible to describe the effect of Holland's delivery. It's as if she's pressing the words against some invisible lathe, turning them as wild and fair as birdsong. All in all, more proof that our sonic well being can be turned over to booking agent Annie Southworth for entire nights at a time. --- Read our previous Jolie Holland review: August 17, 2003 @ Make-Out Room ©2003 playinginfog.com |