|
For many of
us who had originally come to know Kris by way of a favorite internet
chat room,
hearing Boss of Love for the first time came as
nothing less than a revelation. We knew, of course, that Kris was
a musician, but she was never one to sing her own praises too
loudly, and for the most part that was just a another bit of
background information. We loved her for who,
not what she was. (Sorry, Kris. It's nothing but grammar. Won't
happen again!) Curiosity eventually got the better of some of us, though, and
before too long there was a parcel waiting in my mailbox when I
got home from work one day. I unwrapped it, smiled at what was
written inside, and inserted the little silver disk into my CD
player... 
If you've never
heard Kris St. Louis sing, I'm not going to be able to do her
justice by telling you about what that lady can do with her voice. Kris' voice is deep and melodious and
astonishingly
powerful. It's able to fly from a bluesy growl to a soft caress, all with unfailing grace, precision, and clarity. She
does what she does with love and joy and no small amount of
humor, and never, never holds back. From James Anthony's
incandescent riffs opening Call My Landlord, (photo of James,
to the right, by Stan Switalski) to the final notes of a
wonderful rendition of W. C. Handy's St. Louis Blues, Boss of Love is a pure joy.
While it is almost
impossible to have heard Boss of Love even once
without thinking of Kris primarily as a blues artist, a listen to
her 1997 cassette release, 7 days--Songs of faith,
provides for a revelation of a different sort. That it
is an excellent work musically cannot for a moment be denied. For
those of us who love and miss her, though, it is far more than
that. It is something she has left for us that is truly a part of
herself. I think she intended that we find comfort and
reassurance in it. If you need those things from her now, you
have only to listen.
Thanks, Kris. God
bless.
|
