She always sat alone at the end of the bar – the smoky redhead with the crazy green eyes. I’d had my eye on her for quite some time, and honestly, I never saw it coming. But there we were – finally, just the two of us, sitting together on her black leather couch at 4am – the Karla Bonoff cassette now halfway through its third play. An evening’s worth of imbibing had brought us to the point of now melting into what little was left of the night. Then suddenly, I awoke to sunshine beaming through the half-drawn blinds. And through the open window I felt a cool, soft breeze as the syncopated rhythm of morning traffic zipped through the intersection of Highland and Sunset. I can’t remember exactly how I made it from her second-hand sofa to the queen-size canopy. What I do recall is that it was one heckuva night. Mmm, hot fresh coffee. Thanks, sweetheart.
The preceding scenario is not a steamy excerpt from my next book. It’s the sultry film short that played out in my mind the first time I experienced the latest from acclaimed singer / songwriter, Kelley Ryan.
Produced by Ryan and legendary “machinist,” Don Dixon, Telescope is an absolutely captivating collection – a superbly-crafted, ten-song seduction – one brought to life by an honest, pure voice and sprinkled from start to finish with twinkling “whistles and bells.”
Ryan’s melodies are simply irresistible and hypnotic. Her engaging, honey-coated Nina Persson-meets-Aimee Mann vocals are accented throughout by Marti Jones’ back-up splendor and Jon Thornton’s gorgeous, circa ’69, soft-pop horn work.
A master storyteller, Ryan endeavors to offer fans a magnifier-type glimpse into her inner self with this 2017 solo slab. However, I contend that the vivid images revealed through her songs are in fact, unique and personal to each listener. And although not everybody’s experience will duplicate my Technicolor mini feature, highlights including “The Darkest Stars,” “Flake White Heart” and “Real Gone Girl” are sure to show ya some spectacular snapshots.