Posts filed under ‘Cheyenne Marie Mize’
Cheyenne Marie Mize’s latest EP “We Don’t Need” is a different sound for her — which is to say she’s shed her solitary singing, lonely piano, banjo, and lush vocal harmonies, and in turn she’s picked up a couple of bandmates and a decidedly rougher edge. It’s always good to hear musicians take chances and expand their range, not that she needed it. Anyone who’s heard her older tracks, “Over the Moon” (2010), and the stunningly beautiful narcotic slumber of “Lull” (one of the most subtle and breathtaking songs I’ve heard since beginning this blog) know that she’s fine singing any style she wishes. I wrote up a quick review of her record months ago, after being given an early listen to it courtesy of her PR group. But the record is being re-released now that she’s a part of the Yep Roc label. It’s worth purchasing. And before you do, be sure to listen to her new sound, in the video for “It Lingers” below — posted by LaundroMatinee, those curators of very nice live video recordings of songs. The song is country-blues slow-smoked. It rattles like bones, and drifts prettily through electric guitar, and the haunting recollection of love: “It lingers above my bed / And it falls at my feet on the floor / It replaces the things I feel / With those things I felt before.” It contains one of my favorite Cheyenne lines, “Your face is all places I go … / Oh, let it go …” As far as the video goes, I love that blue tone LaundroMatinee get. It’s fitting. The website also posted a second video, for the song “Wishing Well”. Follow Cheyenne at facebook, tumblr, and twitter. Read more Their Bated Breath archived posts about the artist here. Note: All lyrics are unofficial. — David D. Robbins Jr.
Cheyenne Marie Mize will release a new six-song record, “We Don’t Need”, on vinyl and digital on November 8th via Roaring Colonel Records. This record is a sea change for the Louisville singer-songwriter, who moves from chanteuse to soulful rockin’ mama, more akin to Carrie Rodriguez and Amy Correia. The lead single, “Wishing Well”, is a stripped-down church-inspired anthem with a devilish sexy side: “Can I put a penny in the wishing well? / I gave all my dollars away / I wish I may / Wish I might / Have the wish I wish tonight / And if I should die before I wake / The lord can’t have my soul to take / Just in case the devil wants to make a deal / And sell my very soul to get some of your anytime … / Oh, can I get a little of your anytime lovin’?” Her song, “Going Under”, picks up where “Wishing Well” leaves off. It’s a piano-prancing, foot-stompin’ gem about having the freedom to enjoy life and love before feeling the need to take cover. It’s a real chance for Mize to show off her soulful, uptempo pipes. Normally a change this drastic would feel like a heavy-handed attempt to branch out into a new audience. But this record doesn’t feel like that. It’s wonderfully surprising and inventive, finding comfort in a ruckus as well as shadowy mood. The mighty “It Lingers”, the gem of “We Don’t Need”, alternates between a lolling slow-smoke and a furious squall of country, rock and blues. The song is the calm before the storm and the flattening force. “It Lingers” blusters with its reflective tones, edgy guitar, and speculative lyricism about life and piece of mind. It’s one of Mize’s best songs in a short career of beautiful music. “Keep It” is a fun Southern front-porch rocker, about the disgust of feeling placated. It’s got real spit and venom, set to the beat of a nasty drum and snarling guitar: “Well, I can’t hear you / Say it one more time / I can’t hear you / I might lose my mind / Keep it to yourself / Keep it to yourself, for me.” The inspired, “Call Me Beautiful”, is dark and full of emotional depth. It’s like a Tom Waits dirge — rickety, and gloriously dissonant. This is a fantastic breakout for Mize, who continues to astonish at every turn. Note: To hear more of Mize go to her bandcamp page where you can steam previous records. Read archived Their Bated Breath posts about her here. — David D. Robbins Jr.
Cheyenne Marie Mize “Wishing Well”
I’m a bit late to appreciating this Cheyenne Marie Mize cover of Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy’s “I Called You Back”. Marie Mize released this track for free for all you Valentine’s Day lovebirds. I know this is a song that BPB fans know all too well. It’s a love song, about a passion that lasts. It’s a lullaby with beautiful sentiments, including the gorgeous line, “I heard your voice in everything”. But once I’d listened to the song a number of times, something else struck me as quite pretty. The most repeated phrase in the song, “And I called you back, to a place beside me”, works both for intimacy and for love in death. Okay, so maybe it’s just my mind imposing meaning into lyrics I obviously didn’t write. But I like to think the phrase matures during the song and its meaning shifts as the couple moves through time. At first, it’s a new love (“found”), then the kissing and heights of love, then old age happens (and love still maintains), then quietude — and the love is still there even in that. What a lovely concept. It’s a perfect selection for Marie Mize, and it’s hardly a surprise that she knocks it out of the park in her own unique way. There warm horns are gone. The tavern piano is gone. The duet becomes a solo. But her crystalline voice breaths it’s own warm tones into the words, with different intonations than in the original version. Then there’s a clever sound loop, much like a person blowing over a bottle top. It layers gently with a repeated vocal cooing. Sometimes listening to covers can be like watching someone put on a shoe that isn’t quite their size. The pairing can be strained, grimace-inducing and forced. But in this case, song and songstress make a perfect couple. — David D. Robbins Jr.
REST IN LOUISVILLE: I don’t do this with many musicians, but I pretty much post anything I can related to Cheyenne Marie Mize. Once you hear her voice, and the sheer elegance of her compositions, you’ll see why. This singer-songwriter creates music that for the brief span it’s playing, feels like the only music in the world at that given moment. In the new video below, recorded live at Louisville’s famed Green Building, Mize sings her track, “Rest”, from off her new release, “Before Lately”. Read a Their Bated Breath archived review of Mize’s album, or listen to “Over the Moon”, a song she created for a cause she holds dear. Every time I hear Cheyenne I think of how elegantly simple she makes things. Melodic, passionate, but rooted to an old-world sense of romance. Her mood-inundated vocal sways are enough to make the hair on your arms stand on end. Really. Listen to her flutter at the 3:26 mark. But what I love about this track is the tone and delicacy of the first two lines, “Lay with me honey, for awhile / You don’t have to stay, but if you do it’ll be alright.” It’s almost as if her rising and then falling inflection is the easing of the head on a pillow. It’s vocalization matching lyrical content. And it’s amazingly beautiful. — David D. Robbins Jr.
NEW VIDEO: To kick off the release of her new record, “Before Lately”, Cheyenne Marie Mize sent a cover of Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Oh Comely” to Mixtape Muse. It’s a pretty cool concept to ask musicians what songs inspire them, ask them to record it, and post the results. In this case, Marie Mize (via an I-phone recording) talks about how “Oh Comely” gives her goosebumps and often brings her to tears. It’s a difficult song to sing. When Neutral Milk Hotel lead singer Jeff Mangum sings it, his voice breaks often with fragility, giving it’s strange lyricism a sense of crumbling and breakdown. Listen to Marie Mize’s cover below, courtesy of Mixtape Muse. You can also read an archived Their Bated Breath review of “Before Lately” or listen to her new song, Over the Moon. Here is a link to the original version of “Oh Comely”: “Your father made fetuses with flesh licking ladies, / While you and your mother were asleep in the trailer park. / Thunderous sparks from the dark of the stadiums, / The music and medicine you needed for comforting. / So make all your fat fleshy fingers to moving, / And pluck all your silly strings, bend all your notes for me. / Soft silly music is meaningful magical, / The movements were beautiful, all in your ovaries.” — David D. Robbins Jr.