You see a young girl
with a guitar perched on a stool on a makeshift stage in a dimly lit coffee
house, and you just know what’s going
to happen next, right? There’ll be some left-wing
caterwauling, a litany of boy-bashing rhetoric over three or four well-worn
guitar chords, and plenty of overwrought passion and urgency.
Not so fast.
That isn’t to say the
supposition doesn’t ring true to a certain extent. We’ve all heard it before.
But within all this often-exasperating self-exploration and expression, a few
diamonds shine bright in the creative rough; artists with something to say that
supersede the stereotypes, draw upon audiences outside the norm, and create
credible music. Young women with guitars perched on stools on makeshift stages
in dimly lit coffee houses.
In Rochester there are six of them; six young
ladies in spite of it all. I’m not sure I know what constitutes a musical
movement, or how many artists actually have to make the scene before a genre
and its musicians hit radar screens. One?Two?Five?
Six. That oughta be enough for a
movement. Yeah, six.
This particular
movement is entirely organic. Though frequently sharing the stage together, all
of these young artists have come into their own, on
their own. They have risen above the various limitations set by others and
beyond what people expect from them.
There is a movement
here of young talented female singer/songwriters springing up in this town.
These women are talented. These women are for real. This is their time.
Acoustic guitar and the art of the subconscious zeitgeist
It’s that voice.
It’ll stop you in your tracks. Margaret
Storms‘ dusky alto and smooth delivery belie her 17 years. Her maturity is
refreshing as well. Storms is well aware of the
obstacles she and other female singer/songwriters face, as well as the
importance of what they’re all doing.
“I think this sort of
thing actually might be a sort of subconscious zeitgeist,” she says. “As smart girls rise up against the ‘I’m this bimbo and I’m just
going to pimp clothing and not think for myself’ sort of idea that’s in music
right now.”
Storms writes and plays rock songs. For now it’s just her and her Guild
acoustic. She plans on fleshing some of her new tunes out in the studio with a
band. Still, the songs remain, as does her
unconventional guitar chording and song structures.
Her songs take
precedence over show biz; Storms simply gets on stage, leans in, and plays.
She’s been doing it for two and a half years yet she exudes a seasoned
confidence afforded through initial stage fright at her first gig at Daily
Perks Coffee House. But she got over it.
“It was fine,” she
says. “They liked me. I didn’t puke.”
Storms assumes two prevailing misconceptions from new audiences.
“There’s those people
who go ‘Oh god, it’s another one of those femi-nazi
butch dykes,'” she says. “Or you get, ‘Oh, it’s just another stupid girl with a
guitar.'” Both of these theories are shot down quickly once the Margaret Storm
begins. Lyrically she straddles the chasm between the girl she was and the
woman she is. This gives listeners an intimate peek into her life as it changes
romantically, socially, sexually — listeners including her mom and dad. Do
they prefer knowing this info?
“Well, knowing my
parents, yes, actually,” Storms says. “But I don’t think the average parent
would agree.”
This is not a love song
Nora Kaminski is a proficient fiddler. She’s been playing the instrument since she was 5. She
taught herself guitar a year and a half ago after playing violin with local
musician Matt Cross.
“He had all these
really cool songs written,” Kaminski says. “And I wanted to write songs too. So
I taught myself. I looked up chords on the Internet and then I watched people.”
Now, even with
limited training, the guitar has become her weapon of choice.
Kaminski is a
utilitarian player. This works well with her quiet delivery and sarcasm. And
this 17-year-old has an opinion or two. She pours out songs about Rush
Limbaugh, our nation’s dependency on oil, emo
boyfriends, and tunes filled with general youthful optimism. Of all the women
in this scene, Kaminski is probably the most classic in her left-wing defiance
and rebellious leanings. That’s not to say she’s militant, but the music brings
out a more vociferous and profane side to this otherwise shy young lady.
“I don’t usually
swear all that often,” she says. “So it’s kinda weird
that I do in my songs.”
She hits SUNY
Fredonia this fall and plans to continue playing. Ultimately she wants to work
in music therapy or teach kids with disabilities. She’s got pro chops and pro
insight, but not necessarily pro aspirations.
“The music business
is really terrible,” she says. “I really despise money. A lot of people are in
it for the money and that’s what sucks.
“I work it as a
summer job but it’s because I love doing it.”
And she’ll continue
writing about anything and everything that happens to and around her.
Almost.
“I will never write a
love song,” she says. “Because it’s nobody’s business what I do with my love
life.”
Endless crush
“When I play acoustic
it’s more intimate, and I get to tell stories and it’s just a closer thing,” Teressa Wilcox says. “And there’s more rawness
to that.” More often than not you’ll see Wilcox and her guitar ala carte where
nothing — including her guitar — gets in the way of her sweet voice. When
fronting a full band, Wilcox’s sound is pretty, slick and poppy. The songs are
still there, there are just more colors to paint with.
“I like all the
different elements of pop and rock when it’s with a band,” she says.
Wilcox has already
landed a publishing deal, has management and is working on self-releasing CD
No. 2. She has performed and recorded overseas and seems to be giving it the
big push. She gigs around Rochestera lot.
Yet within the big
star-maker machine is her music; music that is as soft-spoken as she is in
person, yet grows in impact and volume as it resonates. As this 23-year-old
grows musically, dashes of real life increasingly find their way into her
songwriting, although even as a teenager she was writing songs about
relationships gone bad.
“How could someone at
the age of 13 feel all that stuff?” she says. “I’m writing from real
experiences now.” Still, some of those teenage experiences were real…and
lasting.
“The second song I
ever wrote was called ‘Dead Silence,'” she says. “And that was my first real
song. It was about a kid I had a crush on. We still play that song today.”
Not quite what you expected
Teagan Ward first saw Teressa Wilcox sing when she was a freshman at MercyHigh
School. At the time Ward was unaware of the
powerhouse inside her own lungs. Other than around the house, Ward didn’t sing.
“I though ‘Oh my God,
this girl is so good,'” she says. “I didn’t know that I could sing really.”
Surprise.
Ward’s voice is
easily twice her size. That’s not to say this 19-year-old bellows; it’s just
not what you expect to come out of such a slight frame. Folks may pre-judge
when she walks on stage.
“I don’t care,” she
says. “I like the fact that I’m a girl and people probably don’t think much at
first. I like stepping on stage and singing and people being blown away to some
extent. ‘Cause I don’t think they expect that out of me.” Nobody really expects
10-foot pipes out of a 5-foot-something woman.
Ward’s mother, Renee
Ward, was a rock musician herself, and played rhythm guitarist and sang lead
vocals for the late Split Image. She encouraged her daughter to pick up the
guitar.
“I never really got
into it,” she says. “I wanted to play the drums.” Ward went so far as to study
percussion at Roberts Wesleyan, but the theory and technical emphasis took the
fun out of it.
Her boyfriend at the
time showed her a few chords. Not long after she started singing.
It pleases her to be
a part of this apparent movement of young female songwriting talent. Just as
Wilcox’s show at Mercy High encouraged her, she hopes that by playing out, she
and the other five will encourage more young women waiting in the wings with a
guitar and a song. It’s just a matter of time.
“It’s gonna be giant soon,” she says.
Could’ve been a contender
Everyone loves a
smart ass. Consequently everyone’s gonna love Julia Nunes.
This young lady is irreverent, sassy, and savvy. She’s defiant. She’s
observant. She’s unflinchingly honest. Thank God she’s got this outlet.
“I think playing
guitar and songwriting is like God’s gift to my hormones,” she says.
Nunes has been picking guitar for the last four of her 17 years.
Pre-hormones, it was a pretty standard scenario.
“Just normal teen
angst that I had,” she says. “I was 14; you know, school sucks, so I started
writing songs about that. It was an easy way to get it out.”
She strums in a
quasi-madrigal kind of way, keeping her close to the folk side of things. But
lyrically she waxes a lot more urban — shopping at the dollar store, the
quirks of her various friends.
She’s currently
recording her second CD with The Chesterfield Kings behind the board at their
Living Eye Studios. Her eyes are on the horizon. In her drive and optimism she
hasn’t chosen a safety net and has no idea what she’d do if she weren’t playing
music.
“Maybe, I’d be a
boxer,” she suggests. “Take out all my anger there on the punching bag.”
I cannot tell a lie
Katy Wright hated the guitar. Well, she liked it actually, but it had already been
established as a “boy’s instrument.”
“I felt like all the
boys were playing guitar, and I wanted to stick to my piano,” she says. She
also hated the clarinet. And she hates the gender limitations associated with
certain instruments.
“In high school it
seemed like all the girls were forced to play clarinets and flutes,” she says.
“The boys all played drums and trumpets. I wanted to play drums and trumpet. I
wanted to mingle in with the boys.”
Wright discovered a
knack for songwriting her senior year at MarcusWhitmanHigh School in Rushville.
She couldn’t haul a piano around so she bit the bullet and picked up the
dreaded guitar. Her first song wasn’t far behind.
With a degree in
music, this 23-year-old lives and breathes the stuff. She teaches piano and
voice at The House Of Guitars and Northfield Music.
Her straight gig as manager at Boulder Coffee finds her booking the acts as
well.
But despite her
theoretical knowledge of music she still treads lightly. Her guitar playing is
somewhat conservative and understated. She’s modest about her talent and quick
to point out her own limitations. Piano is her main instrument, yet doesn’t
make it into the current singer/songwriter equation.
“I don’t write on
piano,” she says. “I have to separate classical music from songwriting. I get
really nervous when I play piano in front of people and I don’t really with
guitar. I think it’s because people have expectations of me because I’m
classically trained.”
And Wright is giving
it the push as well. She has one self-released CD out, is working on new
material, and is sending songs to Nashville.
Though Wright
reins it in, her songs still let fly.
“I think I’ve become,
over the years, a pretty raw songwriter,” she says. “I used to kind of beat
around the bush with my words and try to get the audience to read these
subliminal messages. I’ve grown up enough now to be completely honest. I don’t lie in my songs. I don’t make things
up.”
For more information
on these artists, check out:
Teagan Ward:www.myspace.com/teaganlward; Katy Wright: www.myspace.com/katywright7; Teressa Wilcox: www.dangnation.com; Nora
Kaminski: www.norakaminski.com; Julia
Nunes:www.myspace.com/jaaaaaaa.
This article appears in Aug 2-8, 2006.
