When Kristin Chambers walked on stage at Barboza wearing a form-fitting, black jumpsuit with pockets, I immediately knew I liked this woman. Looking sleek and powerful (but also practical with those pockets, come on), the piano-pop singer-songwriter started her set with the opening track of her new LP, “Oxygen Of Love.”
This show served as the release party for Chambers’s latest drop, Kissing Ghosts, and, with Chambers sitting confidently behind her keyboard, just as “Oxygen Of Love” provides an unparalleled opening to her record, so did it instill a phenomenal opening vibe to her live set. From the moment she opened her mouth, I felt her voice literally pulling at something inside me, drawing happiness and bubbles to the top of my chest until it emanated throughout my entire body, perfectly in time with the music.
With light in her eyes and infectious gaiety cascading from her smile, Chambers had command over her audience from the second she set foot on stage. She brought life to her tracks, transitioning between keyboards and a mic at the front of the stage. She also made jokes along the way, bringing us into her world, like when she threw out that her album is only available on Napster and MySpace. Backed by an incredible band — Roger Lloyd on guitar; Kimo Muraki on guitar, lap steel, and backup vocals; Andrew Seller on drums; Camilo Estrada on bass; and Asta Wylie on backup vocals — these musicians came together to create an indelible moment in time that spoke volumes about Chambers’s astounding musicality.
Particularly juicy moments were the three-part harmonies from Chambers, Muraki, and Wylie on final Kissing Ghosts track “Come To Me” and Chambers’s powerful rendition of “Let Me Let You Let Me Go,” in which her voice soared above the crowd, and I legitimately got chills and felt my eyes tear up during several stimulating belts from Chambers, as her band swayed behind her.
With the live rhythms locked in and ear-worm pop melodies infusing the venue, the crowd danced throughout Chambers’s entire set — something rarely seen in the Seattle scene.
Before Chambers, two members of her band — Kimo Muraki and Roger Lloyd — prepped the audience for their headlining set with their own projects. Muraki opened the show on his own with only a guitar, a banjo, and his voice, and Lloyd, who also produced Kissing Ghosts, took the stage with his rock duo, Deep Cologne.
While Muraki’s voice was sweet as sugar and his falsetto hit frequencies I didn’t know existed, the most pertinent part of his set was how he let his personality shine through. As he began his set, there were a handful of people at the front of the stage but even more milling about in the back, talking amongst themselves, rising above the din of Muraki’s soft-spoken words. He jokingly called to those in the “nosebleed seats,” announcing his set was beginning.
As he flowed throughout his set, drawing the crowd in with his creamy vocals and rhythmic guitar, the people in those nosebleeds payed no mind. When an audience member asked if we should ask them to quiet down, without missing a beat, Muraki said to let them be because after he finished playing in Chambers’s set, he would just “get tanked” and go fight them. A simple joke, it was a thread throughout the entire set, and it showed both Muraki’s professionalism and grit layered on stop of his smooth songwriting.
Rock duo Deep Cologne filled out the second set with Lloyd and drummer Michael Tipton. Looking like Sting and Bono had a baby, Lloyd made for a wonderful (if not stereotypical) frontman. His presence was solidly stolid during tracks and light and fun between tunes, introducing the tracks by their danceability. He and Tipton filled out the stage well on top of their tracks — or, as they refer to them, “the robot.”
With syncopated rhythms and tracks that ranged from pop sensibilities to grunge, Deep Cologne’s set sent me into a psychedelic trance, bopping my head side to side as the beats flew by. Their grooves were slinky, and their robot imbued shiny plinks onto their live and dark but bouncy rhythm section.
With Lloyd and Muraki bleeding into Chambers’s set, the whole night felt like a swirl of honey dripping off a spoon, starting at the top of the night, moving through the sets, and landing in a silky pool of piano pop at the end of the evening. Filled with sweetness and hale, the album release for Kissing Ghosts left me staring at the spoon, just waiting for it to be dipped back into the honey jar, drooling for more.
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