Sonya Kitchell - Words Came Back to Me

Is there anything bad I can say about Sonya Kitchell, really? She's seventeen. She's a musical prodigy. She understands rhythm; she has passion; and she's quickly expanded beyond the folk of Joni Mitchell to R&B and sultry jazz. And, hey, guess what? She writes the stuff herself. There are plenty of talented young singers out there, especially of the feminine persuasion, but they're talented at regurgitating (in occasionally unflattering kareoke tones, as on American Idol). Sonya Kitchell is talented at music, too. So no, there's nothing bad I can say about Sonya Kitchell. And I have nothing but praise for her debut album, Words Came Back To Me. Well, almost nothing. I mean, could I really critique her seriousness? Is it a bad thing that she seems so old? I may wish that she were more eclectic, like Regina Spektor, or sexy and playful, like Fiona Apple, but that's not meant as any sort of criticism. This review may scan like sarcasm: It's not. Sonya Kitchell is an incredible storyteller, and you need only listen to her dig into the notes in a song like "Can't Get You Out of My Mind" to know that she's serious about it, too. Her narrative voice throbs; it resonates; it seeps around the little pockets of sound on her guitar, and she keeps the whole production so minimized (a real coffee shop artist) that you can hear every nuance on a song like "Tinted Glass." And believe me, you want to hear those nuances, the way she teases out the breath and then hits a note slightly higher than the one before that, and then again. But then, okay, yes. Words Came Back To Me is like modern vintage; it's been fashioned to appear much older than it is, even in the occasionally scratchy ambiance of "I'd Love You," a straight-up throwback to the classic and ethereal singers of yore. Is this imitation flattery or indulgence of an incredible vocal gift? I don't know, but thankfully, Kitchell restrains herself from the trappings of a diva, and stays true to the music, making it, despite all the copycat behavior, most essentially HER music. Still, the best track on this album is hidden at the end of "Jerry" (a great story/song in itself) and features a quirky rhythm and moment of youthfulness otherwise absent. The simplicity of the track, an ode to her younger brother, has the magical potency of something that's filled with honesty. Not that she's trying too hard on the rest of the CD -- she never falls flat on her face, at least -- but she strikes the perfect chord with this one. Words is light, relaxing music, and I worry that some may just let it play in the background at a fancy dinner party, using it as a musical masseuse. I worry that some of the tracks are so utterly soothing that they won't be catchy enough for today's angsty listener. But that's not fair to Ms. Kitchell. Take this album as a showcase of ability, and let her take this cohesive blend of folk jazz to the modern era with her next release. We've seen the influences: Next time, just give us more Kitchell. [www.sonyakitchell.com]