Saturday May 25, 2013
A Star With a Marvelous Voice is Born: Carly BryantSigismond (Michel Hervé Navoiseau-Bertaux) Salem-News.com
Carly rejects as much the alibis of ignorance as the enticing exhibitionism and the dreams of the wealthy.
(PARIS, France) - England enjoys a great new voice; Carly Bryant is worth the four Beatles all by herself.
She composes sentimental ballads, music and words, that she sings with a golden voice, honey in the feminine and sometimes harshness in the masculine. She accompanies herself with the piano, where she excels, or guitar.
Her style rocks us with stirring rhythms. It is characterized by a great refinement of nuances, subtle vocal variations, a whole variety of gentle, merry, ironic or provocative intonations, and an exquisite sensitivity. Carly sings straight to the heart.
Carly is a beauty but her cheerful and smiling charm remains demure. However, her poignant voice ("The hell of a voice!"), with husky, sometimes passionate and rough accents, fascinating with emotional intensity, locates her between Barbara and Diana Krall, but with a bite and irony that belong to her alone.
Its evidence immediately takes your heart and won't let you go. Its powerfulness and her sharp awareness, expert at revealing hidden truths, combined with keen enthusiasms and a delicate tenderness are extremely endearing. Carly promises "A pocketful of rye" (title of her CD) but gives a harvest of love. She is simple, friendly, fresh with her great youth.
Carly is a deep sentiment and deep thinking poetess, a poetess of intimacy, of the moment, of the ephemeral, of the sudden departure of an orchestra of swallows singing her a symphony, of the sensuality of a manly smell and of a heart as fragile as glass, that saddens at not being able to trust a whimsical sun.
Carly counts us idylls in jeans and T-shirts, and intense emotions. From the sadness of the idle "boys that (she) likes" to the ironic and carnal cheerfulness of her "mmm", passing by the Lamartinelike romanticism of "What you say", the moving tenderness of "Fragility lies" or of "These are the boys that I like", the melancholy of "On & on & on" and the determination of "Time is changing", Carly tells us her tastes, hopes, angers and dreams.
She exposes the cruelty of a universe "without a clue", where a wedding with a seducer looks like a funeral, where "reason bears no resemblance to the truth" and where "it's what you don't say… that hurts". But "What you say" (the first song of her CD), Carly, is divine.
You hate the lies of the perverse relationship between voyeuristic males and exhibitionist females. You are gently ironic about the sophisticated jargon, the snobbism and fashions of the gilded youth.
You rebel against the suicidal violence of cell phones war games, and you revolt against repetition about which you wonder: "What am I doing wrong? How do we move on?" You even put your finger on the issue, asserting: "It's some kind of taboo", elephant like, that gnaws at us.
So, if you radiate joy of life and if one of your favorite words is "orgasm" ("mmm", "fragility lies" and "tree house"), several of your songs have deep, tragic accents. Making a "best of" with your songs is impossible; each piece is a small masterpiece of beauty and sharp intelligence.
In "Sing a song of sixpence", her last CD, Carly confirms her deep thinking and social criticism concerns, still from the point of view of the heart. It is a series of small scenes of her life, encounters notably, and a journey through hell that ends in "paradise".
A daughter of Baez, Dylan, Cohen and Simon and Garfunkel, in a discreet modernity, Carly is a great artist who wants it to move on. She rejects as much the alibis of ignorance as the enticing exhibitionism and the dreams of the wealthy.
Thanks for existing, Carly. You already are a great one in soul music. A few moments with you are an enchantment and a great future is awaiting you. You sing: "I'm not the travelling type" ("Take me home") but you're going to spend your life in tours! You sing: "Take me home", the whole earth will be your home.
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