First Impressions: From Newman Street by Kassi Valazza

It’s safe to say that Kassi Valazza’s third album, From Newman Street, conjures an array of other artists, other songs. I’ve heard Sandy Denny and Joni Mitchell reverberating through her melodies and vocals from the get-go, while Diane mentioned Carly Simon when I played her the album during a somewhat long drive on Saturday. Late-1960s/early ‘70s folk-rock ripples from the grooves, in other words; imagine Joni backed by the Younger Than Yesterday-era Byrds or Carly accompanied by Fairport Convention and you almost have an idea of the hues and gradients she mixes and matches on her artistic palette.

On the surface, it’s a warm and colorful set that’s accented by Valazza’s lilting vocals, which crest high one moment only to slide low the next, all while her lyrics delve into topics that most everyone of a certain age will identify with. (She offers play-by-play analysis of the 10 tracks in this Stereogum piece.)

One highlight is “Time Is Round,” which I initially heard as a Sandy Denny-esque track due to the similarity of the first line to Denny’s “Who Knows Where the Time Goes?” That’s the song that spurred Diane to compare Valazza’s vocal to Carly Simon’s, I should mention—and once she said it, I heard it, too. Comparisons aside, it’s a tremendous tune that digs into the shifting sands we all stand on. “Am I relaying/that my dreams of youth are gone?” she asks. Who hasn’t felt that?

“Weight of the Wheel,” about the cycles of life that seemingly replay themselves, is another highlight. Echoes of Fairport and the Band abound.

I mentioned last week that I recently revisited Joni Mitchell’s Clouds album. Though well-regarded, and—along with Ladies of the Canyon—my favorite of hers, it’s rarely picked as her best work, in large part due to its straightforward folk and folk-rock feel. The songs sound bright and pleasant yet, once you dive in, are anything but; they capture, in poetic fashion, the gradual shift from innocence to disillusionment. From Newman Street explores a similar sentiment that often comes when many of us push into our 30s (and lingers forever more), when said disillusionment is replaced by a begrudging dismay.