Few things will get me out on a Tuesday night, and at 9:30pm I still wasn’t sure if I had it in me to walk down to Nightlight to check out Seattle’s Tiny Vipers (a.k.a. Jesy Fortino). I had only recently sampled a few of her tunes via her MySpace page and YouTube, and while I was impressed with what I heard, I wasn’t sure the live show would be worth the pain of dragging myself to work the following morning on limited sleep. As it turned out, the next day was pretty painful, but so well worth it.
This woman’s voice alone is worth going out of your way for. Her guitar playing is very sparse, leaving space for each note to linger a little, allowing her wonderfully distinct and beautiful voice to pull you into her songs, which resonate with depth and a sense of mystery. Despite some technical difficulties at the onset, I thought the sound was fantastic. She really knows how to back away / lean in to the mic. And the effects on the vocals and the guitar really accentuated the ethereal flow of the music.
When I first heard the song “Dreamer” online, I was reminded of Cat Power, when Chan Marshall is at her best/sanest. The association didn’t come up while seeing Jesy Fortino perform live, however. Her guitar playing may be sparse, but it’s really unique, interesting, and thoughtfully executed. If you’re listening for verse-chorus-verse-chorus or catchy hooks, you’re not spending your time wisely. Most of the twenty or thirty of us who were there sat on the floor or in Nightlight’s comfy chairs, taking in the music like one takes in a sunset, or a starry sky, or the sounds of the ocean. There was that sense of spaciousness and wonder, but also the feeling of intimacy you get when you share in someone’s private world. I want to make a connection between looking through a telescope and looking through a keyhole, but just saying that much sounds lame. I didn’t even think about what the words to her songs might mean. Whatever she was expressing, for me it registered on an emotional, gut level, and her performance left me feeling open-hearted and inspired.
After the show I bought Tiny Vipers’ new record, Life on Earth, and thanked her for her soulful performance. Walking home, I ran into an extremely intoxicated guy who said he was looking for his car. He said he remembered parking it near some sort of store. He also talked about being in West Baltimore and having a Glock stuck in his face. I pointed him to the nearest store in the direction opposite of where I was going. About a quarter-mile down the road I was approached by another man. He was wearing Scoobie Doo bedroom slippers. He explained to me that he meant no harm, but he really needed to get back to Durham somehow. “I’m lost, I stink, and I need $4.75 to get back home.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out five bucks, and stuck it in his hand. He gave me a fist bump, a “God Bless,” and his assurance that if I ever needed anything (and happened to see him again) he would find a way to come through for me.
It felt good to say “Yes,” to give someone more than they asked for. I want to make a connection between that and the Tiny Vipers show, but, you know…