1 | HARMONY TROWBRIDGE IS MY FRIEND.
For years she’s been one of the very brightest lights in the Toronto independent music scene, a maverick songbird, a wise and clever bringer of truth and musical wonder. She’s a rare thing: A chick singer without Tori Amos pretension or Ani DiFranco bullshit attitude and quirk. Nor does she sound like Jewel. She’s not one of the army of Feist-a-likes that seem to be taking over the industry, though the two share a similar timbre; Feist, quite frankly, doesn’t have the range of voice, nor the personality of my friend Harmony Trowbridge.
The roots of Harmony’s music are in the soil tilled previously by the likes of Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson, Harry Nilsson, Leonard Cohen and Eva Cassidy. I’ve long wanted her to do a cover of Melanie’s “Brand New Key,” but I always forget to ask her. She’s more esoteric than it seems is palatable for singer-songwriters these days. There’s something of the mighty Randy Newman about her. She refuses to spell things out for you, and tells stories that kind of sound like they might be stories, though they leave you unsure of the narrative. She’s Shel Silverstein, had Shel Silverstein been a hippy chick from Canada’s West coast. She’s theatrical, but not precious. She’s fun, but not twee. She’s intelligent, but it’s not what she is, if you get my drift.
She’s Canadian, so she’s got a little Gordon Lightfoot in her music. (Thankfully, though, she has no Stompin’ Tom.)
2 | BABY MAMA.
Just over a year ago Harmony Trowbridge had an adorable little baby named Kai. Kai is significant not just because he’s new life, and curious, and ADORABLE, but most importantly because he’s responsible for Harmony taking over one full year off from performing live in public, and for that I’m not sure I’ll ever fully forgive him.
3 | THIS ONE’S FOR THE CHICKENS.
This past Saturday Harmony organized a benefit for the American animal rights activists, The Farm Sanctuary, which rescues animals from farms that treat said animals with something less than decency, and relocates them to wonderful places where they are cared for and played with and treated with respect. It’s a wonderful cause and a fitting backdrop for the return of Harmony Trowbridge to the live stage.
4 | “IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE I ROCK & ROLLED.”
For her soundcheck she played -at my request- a cover of the great Leonard Cohen song “Hey, That’s No Way to Say Good-bye.” I like Leonard Cohen’s poetry and I love some of his music, but often I prefer other people doing his songs to hearing him do them himself, the greatest example of which is Jeff Buckley’s cover of “Hallelujah,” which is pretty much the high water mark for cover songs period. Harm (her friends call her that sometimes...) covers “Hey...” with a similar attack, acknowledging that with Cohen’s music, it’s really not about the music at all, but the words, all the while kicking up the melodic centre a few notches in a way you think Leonard would have if he could have, but he just couldn’t because he sings like a butcher.
When she got into her set proper -backed by a cellist and a drummer, fittingly using brushes- she introduced a slew of new tunes highlighted by the wonderful “Trawling,” which is very much in the Kris Kristofferson vein, and “Covers Up,” both of which show that Harmony is maybe inching ever closer to a more traditional song structure complete with defined choruses... And said traditional structure agrees with her idiosyncratic style more than you may have suspected.
Opener “West Coast Girls” is an unabashed pop song, and a good one at that.
It’s tempting to call this change in her writing style “maturation,” but Harmony’s always been an uncommonly developed songwriter. Possibly though it represents a new-found comfort with her gift, a realization that she needn’t try and separate herself (consciously or not) from the pack with quirky progressions and hooks so subtle you hardly realized you’ve bitten. There’s nothing so wonderful as a pop song -I’ll take Paul McCartney over John Lennon any day of the week- and it’s pretty exciting to witness a songwriter discovering her inner-Macca. And while she might not be embracing her gift with the zest of an Emmitt Rhodes or, say, Kelley Stoltz, she’s got a sweet ear and a lovely voice and quite a way with a set of chords.
For years she’s been one of the very brightest lights in the Toronto independent music scene, a maverick songbird, a wise and clever bringer of truth and musical wonder. She’s a rare thing: A chick singer without Tori Amos pretension or Ani DiFranco bullshit attitude and quirk. Nor does she sound like Jewel. She’s not one of the army of Feist-a-likes that seem to be taking over the industry, though the two share a similar timbre; Feist, quite frankly, doesn’t have the range of voice, nor the personality of my friend Harmony Trowbridge.
The roots of Harmony’s music are in the soil tilled previously by the likes of Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson, Harry Nilsson, Leonard Cohen and Eva Cassidy. I’ve long wanted her to do a cover of Melanie’s “Brand New Key,” but I always forget to ask her. She’s more esoteric than it seems is palatable for singer-songwriters these days. There’s something of the mighty Randy Newman about her. She refuses to spell things out for you, and tells stories that kind of sound like they might be stories, though they leave you unsure of the narrative. She’s Shel Silverstein, had Shel Silverstein been a hippy chick from Canada’s West coast. She’s theatrical, but not precious. She’s fun, but not twee. She’s intelligent, but it’s not what she is, if you get my drift.
She’s Canadian, so she’s got a little Gordon Lightfoot in her music. (Thankfully, though, she has no Stompin’ Tom.)
2 | BABY MAMA.
Just over a year ago Harmony Trowbridge had an adorable little baby named Kai. Kai is significant not just because he’s new life, and curious, and ADORABLE, but most importantly because he’s responsible for Harmony taking over one full year off from performing live in public, and for that I’m not sure I’ll ever fully forgive him.
3 | THIS ONE’S FOR THE CHICKENS.
This past Saturday Harmony organized a benefit for the American animal rights activists, The Farm Sanctuary, which rescues animals from farms that treat said animals with something less than decency, and relocates them to wonderful places where they are cared for and played with and treated with respect. It’s a wonderful cause and a fitting backdrop for the return of Harmony Trowbridge to the live stage.
4 | “IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE I ROCK & ROLLED.”
For her soundcheck she played -at my request- a cover of the great Leonard Cohen song “Hey, That’s No Way to Say Good-bye.” I like Leonard Cohen’s poetry and I love some of his music, but often I prefer other people doing his songs to hearing him do them himself, the greatest example of which is Jeff Buckley’s cover of “Hallelujah,” which is pretty much the high water mark for cover songs period. Harm (her friends call her that sometimes...) covers “Hey...” with a similar attack, acknowledging that with Cohen’s music, it’s really not about the music at all, but the words, all the while kicking up the melodic centre a few notches in a way you think Leonard would have if he could have, but he just couldn’t because he sings like a butcher.
When she got into her set proper -backed by a cellist and a drummer, fittingly using brushes- she introduced a slew of new tunes highlighted by the wonderful “Trawling,” which is very much in the Kris Kristofferson vein, and “Covers Up,” both of which show that Harmony is maybe inching ever closer to a more traditional song structure complete with defined choruses... And said traditional structure agrees with her idiosyncratic style more than you may have suspected.
Opener “West Coast Girls” is an unabashed pop song, and a good one at that.
It’s tempting to call this change in her writing style “maturation,” but Harmony’s always been an uncommonly developed songwriter. Possibly though it represents a new-found comfort with her gift, a realization that she needn’t try and separate herself (consciously or not) from the pack with quirky progressions and hooks so subtle you hardly realized you’ve bitten. There’s nothing so wonderful as a pop song -I’ll take Paul McCartney over John Lennon any day of the week- and it’s pretty exciting to witness a songwriter discovering her inner-Macca. And while she might not be embracing her gift with the zest of an Emmitt Rhodes or, say, Kelley Stoltz, she’s got a sweet ear and a lovely voice and quite a way with a set of chords.
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