No Wicked Words to Bear for Tin Cup Prophette
She was living in Brooklyn, in an apartment furnished with things found in the trash, leaving each morning with her fiddle strapped to her back. She played in the subway for donations that she kept in a tin cup and met musicians from all over the city.
“Day after day after day of lugging that stuff around and being in such an uncomfortable climate just made me hate watching these delicately dressed women with little teeny pocketbooks, cell phone and credit card,” said Amanda Kapousouz in October interview. The experience inspired “Curses on Purses,” a song on Liar and the Thief, her debut album.
“Oh no, a revolution/ Curses on purses of featherweight/ There is something in you I should hate,” she sings in her dark, whisky voice, complemented by her violin.
Far from collecting spare change, the Tin Cup Prophette played the 40 Watt Saturday, Feb. 10, seamlessly combining elements from rock, pop, electronica and traditional Irish music to form her unique take on the singer-songwriter.
Three trapeze artists from the Canopy Studio in Athens perform routines to select songs. As Kapousouz plays, their actions complement the music. They provide a physical expression of the sound, rhythmically writhing in unison.
“I just want to reach you,” she sings in “Speak or Spill Down.” The dancers extend toward each other, fingers only inches apart, arms stretching. They hold their bodies in rigid parallel lines and spin endlessly on a black metal cube hung from the ceiling.
Kapousouz deftly plucks the strings and wields her bow, using sampling pedals to loop and combine phrases of violin into layered soundscapes. There is a light hum of discussion when she is setting up, but she does not lose control of her audience.
Because of her looping, Kapousouz normally requires a few minutes between each song. This show she started each song with some of the layers already completed, decreasing preparation time. She jokes between songs, expressing disbelief that so many people had come to see her.
Tin Cup Prophette contrasts dark lyrics with lighter elements, like the glockenspiel on her song, “Going Numb.” She sings, “My face should have no eyes, no scorn no vacant stare/ My face should have no mouth, no wicked words to bear.” It is the dichotomy of tone in instrumentation and lyrics that makes her music and performance compelling.
She does not announce her last song, but instead abruptly ends the show without an encore. It is still enough—the audience is sated by the live performance, and sustained by her album at home.
Verdict: While not fully developed as a performer, Tin Cup Prophette’s shows are a vision of the good things to come.
-Sarah Sapinski
“Day after day after day of lugging that stuff around and being in such an uncomfortable climate just made me hate watching these delicately dressed women with little teeny pocketbooks, cell phone and credit card,” said Amanda Kapousouz in October interview. The experience inspired “Curses on Purses,” a song on Liar and the Thief, her debut album.
“Oh no, a revolution/ Curses on purses of featherweight/ There is something in you I should hate,” she sings in her dark, whisky voice, complemented by her violin.
Far from collecting spare change, the Tin Cup Prophette played the 40 Watt Saturday, Feb. 10, seamlessly combining elements from rock, pop, electronica and traditional Irish music to form her unique take on the singer-songwriter.
Three trapeze artists from the Canopy Studio in Athens perform routines to select songs. As Kapousouz plays, their actions complement the music. They provide a physical expression of the sound, rhythmically writhing in unison.
“I just want to reach you,” she sings in “Speak or Spill Down.” The dancers extend toward each other, fingers only inches apart, arms stretching. They hold their bodies in rigid parallel lines and spin endlessly on a black metal cube hung from the ceiling.
Kapousouz deftly plucks the strings and wields her bow, using sampling pedals to loop and combine phrases of violin into layered soundscapes. There is a light hum of discussion when she is setting up, but she does not lose control of her audience.
Because of her looping, Kapousouz normally requires a few minutes between each song. This show she started each song with some of the layers already completed, decreasing preparation time. She jokes between songs, expressing disbelief that so many people had come to see her.
Tin Cup Prophette contrasts dark lyrics with lighter elements, like the glockenspiel on her song, “Going Numb.” She sings, “My face should have no eyes, no scorn no vacant stare/ My face should have no mouth, no wicked words to bear.” It is the dichotomy of tone in instrumentation and lyrics that makes her music and performance compelling.
She does not announce her last song, but instead abruptly ends the show without an encore. It is still enough—the audience is sated by the live performance, and sustained by her album at home.
Verdict: While not fully developed as a performer, Tin Cup Prophette’s shows are a vision of the good things to come.
-Sarah Sapinski
posted by SJSki @ 10:09 AM
0
comments
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home