From the Archives:
Monday, October 08, 2007
Why I Think Kristin Cappiello Rocks
Every time I see my friend Kristin Cappiello, she is wearing lace.
She’s always colorful. And she always offers me her huge, open smile.
You can see the strength and the caution in her bright blue eyes. The songs she writes are her past and her future, and when she sings them it’s like her heart is pouring out through her mouth. On top of that, she has the voice of a goddess.
Kristin, like a lot of people, has been through way more than a fair share of shit in her life. But she carries with her a deep, quiet innocence, a peacefulness of spirit, that is both endearing and inspiring. This same maturity resonates in her songs; her lyrics, about life and love and grief and other universal truths, are poignant and timeless:
“Letting go of the hardships your life through
Now you say you never need to be without
Trying to be more fearless and timid
Tattered, unrelenting as it goes
And nobody noticed the difference but I know I have
So Sunday night, I go to check out Kristin’s gig at a little restaurant right near the beach on A1A and Atlantic Ave. With the ocean air breezing lazily across the sidewalk, a dozen patrons (locals, mostly) were enjoying their desserts in plastic chairs outside the cafe. Beautiful way to spend an evening.
I see Kristin facing out from the open storefront. She’s wearing white and black lace, and pair of retro magenta specs. She’s draped in several long strands of beads–sort of Marilyn-Monroe-meets-Moulin-Rouge”. Her vintage-looking black heels are perched precariously on the rung of a stool while she sings and strums, almost unaware of her fixated crowd. As she launches into her second chorus of Somewhere Over The Rainbow, several more passers-by are stopping to listen. I’ve seen this girl channel everyone from Natalie Merchant to Bob Dylan to Janis Joplin, and it’s like she can feel them underneath her skin. She can belt the tunes out with the best of ’em, and still has room for a sweet, lilting mezzo range and a bluesy, sultry alto.
I spoke with some other interesting people that night, as well. Saw my ol’ friend Manny there for the first time in a while, and he played a great original song. I met a man named Paul, riding in an electric wheel chair. He had scars on his legs, and was sporting a hat covered with his treasures like a small plastic bird, a tattered flag, a pencil, and other miscellaneous objects. He told me a story about the war. I gave him a rose to add to his hat.
Kristin’s friend Dez and I joined her set with a djembe, a couple extra voices, and a little guitar fill. We sang some originals, and some mainstream covers like “Linger”, “Who Would Save Your Soul”, and “41”, stuff we all sorta knew, and we just jammed out. My vodka-tonic sat untouched on the table; I was having too much fun to bother with it. As Kevin So says, “Besides the finest drug is music”
When it started to rain, we scurried back into the cafe and turned our chairs into a circle. We bantered with the intimate crowd of listeners– making up lyrics and dropping non-P.C. wisecracks and just generally enjoying ourselves. We played until the restaurant kicked us out to close down, and after exchanging a bunch of hugs and myspace addresses, we all went on our way.
What I want to say is this: many people can sing. Many people can write songs or play guitar or do whatever. But Kristin brings something extra to the room when she plays. Her spirit just shines through, and you can’t listen to her sing without being touched by it.
I know this venue is planning on having Kristin back. You can check out her page for more info, listen to a song, and definitely go see her. I repeat, GO SEE KRISTIN CAPIELLO.