Image by Lara Shipley
Becky Stark’s Live Journal
Lavender Diamond rants and rambles in Washington, D.C., on June 7, 2007
By Ann Friedman
Published: June 11th, 2007 | 4:51pm
When a band is playing its hometown, you can always expect a more personal show. Lavender Diamond kicked off their set by projecting the hometown vibe with vocalist Becky Stark announcing she was a (semi-) local gal from "the wrong side of the tracks… Kensington, Maryland!!!" Then she went on to take personal to a whole new level.
In a set that lasted more than an hour, the band played nearly every song from their hippy-romantic full-length album, Imagine Our Love (Matador), punctuated with heavy doses of Stark's ramblings. "This is why a lot of the music I like I don't want to see live," she said at one point. "It's like a journal entry — not meant to be public." Which is exactly what she gave the small crowd at the Black Cat back stage on June 7, 2007. Her classically trained soprano may be the centerpiece of the album but it seemed thin and hollow during most songs. And she tried her best to fill the void with personality. The night was all about Stark's persona — one long journal entry that she recited for the small audience.
At some moments she was eerily reminiscent of pre-rehab Chan Marshall. I saw Marshall in Lawrence, Kansas, a few months before she entered drug and alcohol treatment, and she spent the show playing nonsensical tunes about Cocoa Puffs and leading the audience in a "Happy Birthday" sing-along. Stark also led a rendition of "Happy Birthday," but never quite veered into Cocoa Puff territory. In one rare moment of self-awareness, she asked, "Am I talking too much?" and then answered her own question: "Oh wait, I'm not."
Some of her musings were more personal. "Growing up in D.C. I definitely felt my identity was definitely untenable," Stark said, recounting how she once went to see the Nation of Ulysses play and immediately afterward went to sing in the Shriner's chorus. "I'm really weird," she concluded. "Maybe that's what this song's about." And she launched into a cheery rendition of "Here Comes One" that inspired Muppet-like head bobbing in the audience. But the song stood out because of Stark's bubbly mood, not her vocal prowess.
The band sounded best — and had the best connection with the crowd — when they broke into the album's highlights. The unabashedly cheerful (and music blogger-approved) "Open Your Heart" had couples twirling like it was a 1950s prom. And when Stark toned down her chin thrusts and little leaps to focus on a gorgeous version of "My Shadow Is a Monday," she had everyone's rapt attention.
But she couldn't make it last. For all her professional training and Ivy League education, Stark doesn't seem to understand that the most entertaining artists infuse their musical performance with personality — they don't talk our ears off like college radio DJs. I wanted to hear her sing an impassioned version of "Rise in the Springtime." I did not want to hear her babble, "This song is about terracide. Killing the earth. Terracide is suicide, but it's gonna be really upbeat. Thanks for the earth and the water and the skies, for Joe and Howard and for letting us borrow your guitar…"
Stark was every bit the dreamy, euphoric songstress she conveys on the band's recorded work — looking and moving onstage like the love child of Karen Carpenter and Marcia Brady. Even her chatter was of a ’70s feel-good variety. "Every heart radiates a center of joy,” she said. “So let's hear it for everyone!" (At this point my notes say, "Quaaludes? Weed? Prescription uppers?") By the time they neared the end of the set, Stark led a creepy interpretive dance — right arm outstretched, limp wrist, half-spin — to "Like an Arrow." The handful of participating audience members looked like a small, drunken cult, hopelessly devoted to Stark as their spiritual leader.
In the end, I'm sure only these hardcore fans — those who are more taken with her persona than with her music — were satisfied. Because those of us who put Imagine Our Love on repeat because of Stark's vocal talent were sorely disappointed. Maybe a few Quaaludes would have helped.
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Photos by Lara Shipley
Issue #32
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