I've been playing around with nouns and verbs for a while now. I've written on Capital Hill, for a small paper owned by the Chicago Sun Times and a few places in between. I can wax poetic all day about how great of a writer I am, but that's boring. All you need to know is that awesome-sauce. Don't believe me? Just read.
She’s a secret that won’t be kept much longer. New York’s musical elite packed Rockwood Music Hall on the Lower East Side to hear singer-songwriter Emily King prove why her music reigns supreme.
Dressed in dark blue jeans, Converses, a white collared button-up and sequenced gold and beige blazer, King walked onto the stage greeted by fans who understand the power in soft, melodies and harmonies. Stripped of all the unneccesary, King was accompanied on stage with her piano man, drummer, guitarist and bass player.
The petite chanteuse took fans back to her debut album “East Side Story,” where the Grammy-nominee performed “It Was You.” As King pointed the finger at a lover who brought not only sunlight and tears, it was drummer James Williams who kept King’s shoulders moving to the beat with his gentle flick of the wrist while holding a maraca.
Musically, King has come a long way since parting ways with J Records. Gone are the forced, record-label pressured tracks and shoulder-length auburn hair. In its place, a short and funky mane and a collection of honest songs on her latest EP “The Seven.“
Everything is subtle and delicate with King. From the sway in her shoulders, to the slight intricacies in her voice. King doesn’t beat anyone over the head with her music, which allows people to willingly fall in love with the Manhattan native.
With her dimples on full display, King performed “Radio” a Gospel song to her religious leader, music. The hypnotizing ballot was enhanced by King’s whispers, and the soft chant from her band.