No Rest

admin — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Brooklyn songstress roommates, longtime collaborators, and bestie brunettes Christy Edwards and Emily Manzo have hipster cred out the wazoo. So do loads of other borough-based bands, but few have the raw talent of these two singer-songwriter women—a label that hardly defines the true depth of their talent. Their music, at times hauntingly sparse, reverberates with their lush voices and minimal instrumentation, often just Christy’s guitar or Emily’s keyboard. Sound cloying? The opposite is true. There is nothing pretentious or difficult about this album.

On No Rest, their second release this year, the gals focus on teasing out their folk influences, veering away from their psychedelic roots. At the same time, they maintain their sound experimentation and focus less on complicated lyrics. Lines like “Why not live a life of truth/Like your siblings” could be as autobiographical as they could be creative poetry put to music. No matter that their words are uncomplicated; every sound out of their mouths is truly beautiful, and there is additional beauty in simplicity.

“Idle Hands” has some of the best rhythmic composition on the album and draws to mind a more serious Girls Guitar Club, starting Christy and Emily instead of Karen Kilgariff & Mary Lynn Rajskub.

“Here Comes the Water Now” is a nod to natural disaster—and how unfortunately timely. The nearly rhyming lyrics—which pay off at the end—kept me fully engaged with the story as well as the music.

Better decide on what to bring Take a look around at everything There’s only so much time will allow Here comes the water... now

Closing track “Amaryllis”—which is coincidentally my favorite flower—uses the annual as a metaphor for periods of light and darkness. If you’ve never cared for these bulbous houseplants, just know that they’re like any other bulb. After blooming in the spring, they require months of darkness during the winter. In my experience, this typically means putting them in a large paper bag and tucking them in a dark corner until the springtime frost has vanished. C&E no doubt like these big horn-shaped flowers, as they’ve dedicated a whole song to them and sing, “Oh how lovely the plant you keep in the dark.”

From the album’s opening line—“I’m not scared of what I can’t see anymore”—to the sonic waves, gorgeous vocals, and wind chime-type sound effects, this album will mesmerize you. Let it.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, April 5th 2010

Superstition

admin — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Christy and Emily

Big Print

Anyone who follows music press would agree that Brooklyn has been a hotbed of indie creativity during the past decade. The styles run the gamut from freak-folk to experimental noise, to sugarcoated pop, to singer-songwriter confessionals, to good old fashioned rock and roll. From this creative vortex emerge the duo Christy and Emily with a sound that is a pastiche of all of the above.

Christy Edwards and Emily Manzo have created a sweetly drone-y and sharply melodic record with Superstition. The vocal harmonies are pitch perfect and the songwriting, which could be classified as quietly psychedelic, is well developed. The songs, like fog, seem to creep in with plenty of reverb and quietly distorted guitar. On the title track and the lovely “Nightingale,” the mellow haze clears enough to reveal classic folk melodies. On others, such as “105 & Rising,” the buzzing thump of layered guitars and improvised instruments becomes distinctly sinister. The album’s closing track, “Tigers,” showcases the band at their more upbeat and successfully invokes folk rock vocal patterns. The track also features guest drums by Brooklyn drone master Oneida’s drummer, Kid Millions.

The world of Christy & Emily is layered and ethereal. Trying to pin them to one sound is difficult and, ultimately, fruitless. Those grasping for a comparison might point to Damon and Naomi, or perhaps Coco Rosie without the trust fund and fake, white girl rap. As its title implies, Superstition is best captured by an emotion. It is dreaming, reaching, and searching for a feeling that could be a false lead, but could a new revelation and understanding, for better or worse. The reverb drenched guitar and sunny to stormy vocals enable listeners to stretch and reach to touch with their finger tips—but not quite grasp—one strong feeling.

Written by: Eleanor Whitney, March 12th 2010