Blog by Stacia Jones about Stacie Rose

http://www.collectionsaredangerous.blogspot.com/

Stacie Rose @ Sin-é, 9/21/06
At the bar before Stacie Rose’s show at Sin-é this past Thursday, a friend attempted to describe Rose's sound, offering up the preview, “Her music matches her engagement ring.”Rose and I have been coworkers for about six months now and I have never once looked down at her left hand. In fact, about a week ago I can remember being startled when she casually mentioned her husband in conversation, mostly because Stacie is vibrant and attractive, and at 23 years-old it never occurs to me to assume my social and professional contacts are committed to lifelong significant others. I finished my beer wondering how people come to get married, what this funky, talented promo producer’s dream wedding would entail and how her ring would sound if shot out her vocal chords through the speakers of Sin-é.From the first notes out of Rose’s mouth I assumed the setting was platinum. The lady’s got chops. Her folky sweetness, unpretentious refinement and barrage of “oh oh ohs” led me initially to Natalie Merchant, but in her slower, softer moments she channels a coy whisper, Jewel sans yodel. When laying a little twang on the sugar and the polish, maybe LeAnn or Faith Hill. In her grander, stockier, ballsier moments, even a little Ethridge. It’s not a discount to Rose that she conjures thoughts of so many other female pop singers. You can never really point your finger at one because she’s gleaned the best from them all, fusing them together, giving her voice a distinct but immediately accessible shape.This shape was bolstered by a full band, including electric and acoustic guitarists (Rose’s husband on acoustic), a bassist, a drummer, and a backup singer. It’s invigorating to see a singer-songwriter travel with such a deep crew, and the full sound enhanced Rose’s poppier compositions, swelling to meet her peaks and dropping out to let her shine in moments of melancholy and quiet triumph. But the standouts were Rose’s country-tinged numbers, acoustic laying the earthy foundation and electric guitar solos threading the seams between Rose’s uplifting vocal choruses.Recorded, Rose sounds a touch bubblegum, but onstage she spits more attitude. She sings songs about disaster with sly pride. She banters about “guns and drugs and puppies.” She tells you she likes to write sad songs and then throws down “Sad But Blue,” a drum-heavy powerhouse that hardly seems sad when delivered with such unapologetic resolution. She sings, “I’m a lucky girl…I’m a happy girl…I’m a troubled girl..." on "Okay," her lyrics suggesting trust and graciousness, coupled with a distinct distaste for game playing. She cuts to the chase, and effortlessly.That ring could be a promise string or a five-carat rock. Regardless, I’m sure it is precisely what the woman wanted.