Just a singer and her sublime songs, backed by a crack band—that sums up last night at the Local 506, a small club in Chapel Hill that we last stepped inside in 2019. And what songs! The 75-minute set from Kassi Valazza was replete with sonic marvels that rippled as if sound waves across the vast expanse of spacetime. It was spellbinding from start to finish.
The night opened just as her recent From Newman Street album does: “Better Highways” and “Birds Fly” rolled out the wonders of her poetic wordplay (“I warned the willow not to change/While sky, it fell around my feet/Made from cherry blossoms falling/The pinkest snow you’ve ever seen”) and impressive voice, which glistened like the sun’s reflection across a seemingly calm ocean one moment and the moon’s shimmery visage the next. Clouds drifted in from the horizon, dizzy dancing like life’s illusions until the buzzing ceiling fans scattered them away. As I noted in my review of her new LP, she echoes other artists, other eras—and so it was this night.
The delicate “Small Things” swirled like leaves in the wind, while “Watching Planes Go By” and “Johnny Dear”—highlights from her previous two albums—ratcheted up the rock quotient ever-so-gently. “Time Is Round” found both Diane and I nodding in agreement, as the comfortless club scene leaves us feeling old, these days. That said, the audience was a cross-generational experience, with 20- and 30somethings sharing space on the floor, where some slow-danced and others swayed side to side, while us grayhairs did the latter from the safety of the benches that rimmed the small room. Everyone seemed enthralled.
Mirroring the opening, the night concluded with From Newman Street’s final songs, “Weight of the World” and the title track, with the latter finding Valazza alone on stage. “Weight” rocked like the Band, while the stark “Newman” conveyed the longing we all feel for old friends, some of whom may no longer be with us. About the only thing that could have made the night better: If she’d played the album, which is my favorite of the year thus far, in full. “Market Street Savior,” one of my favorites from it, was missed.
In some respects, the night’s weather formed a solid metaphor for the show. Dramatic lightning bolts cracked the sky during our drive into Chapel Hill, while severe thunderstorm warnings blared from the phone. But the downpour held off until we were safely inside the Local 506, when thunder boomed and the incessant drumbeat of heavy rain reverberated from the venue’s (hot tin?) roof—including, at times, during the opening set from local singer-songwriter Abigail Dowd, who captivated the audience with her blues-tinged folk songs. The rain receded for Valazza, however, and by the time we headed home—though wild bursts of lightning exploded in the distance—the storm was done. Only her songs lingered in our ears.
The set list:
The Old Grey Cat 
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