A Night With Indie Performer Kyler by Marisa Emralino
Live Review in The Observer, Fordham University’s student paper
by Marisa Emralino
It’s a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, and before finalizing my evening plans, I check the weather- a chilly 63 degrees, showers with steady rain continuing into the evening, winds at 20 to 25 mph. This disappointingly dark and dreary summer day has put a damper on my spirits, and in my opinion, there are only two possible cures for the rainy Tuesday night blues: a cup of chai tea, and live music. But, tonight is my lucky night; I get both of those fixes at once. I make my way across town to the DTUT café on 2nd Avenue, between 84th and 85th Streets, where Kyler, one of my favorite local indie singers, is performing. With chai in hand, I sink deep into one of the couches and let the healing begin.
If you dig into the recesses of your memory, and recall the millions of little things that inexplicably wiped away your tear-stained cheeks as a child, that’s what listening to Kyler is like. Hearing her sing is like a warm hug, a brightly colored band-aid on a skinned knee, a lollipop and a sticker after a visit to the doctor, a handful of dandelions in an old jelly jar. However, there is nothing childish about her approach to music. Her songs mostly deal with matters of life and love: the euphoric ups and devastating downs of relationships, battling the stresses of everyday life, the struggles of letting go and moving on. Very simply put, she makes the best of a bad situation by transforming even the darkest emotions into dazzling works of beauty and perfection.
Tonight, she casts magic in the air. From the minute she picks up her acoustic guitar and the first notes escape her lips, the audience is drawn in and captivated by her warmth and charm. Stern-looking businessmen furiously tapping away at their laptops suddenly shut their screens and look up; couples hiding in dark corners emerge, set down their glasses of wine in front of them, and shuffle their chairs in her direction. She makes sure to play some of her crowd favorites, like “Something So Beautiful,” about a loved one defying cruel childhood surroundings, and “Radioactive,” which takes a closer look today’s pop music industry, and gives it a poke in the ribs.
Kyler’s acoustic feel evokes the spirit of singer-songwriter predecessors like Joni Mitchell and Sarah McLachlan, but her own unique sound forges its own path. She melds together elements of folk, rock, and pop, creating seamless pieces that are mellow and introspective, but with enough edge to grab and take hold of your attention. Her voice envelops you like a favorite sweater on a winter day, and her songs are individual perfect little rooms you want nothing more than to hide away in. Her lyrics are always poignant and honest, revealing the inner truths of human emotion. The combination of all these things hits the heart in such a way that all of that day’s or week’s or month’s baggage you’ve been carrying melts away, and you’re left with nothing but feelings of peace and contentment.
As Kyler finishes her set, it’s impossible to remain unaffected. After closing with an upbeat love song called “Snowed In,” that turns the harsh New York winter weather into an occasion worth celebrating, her infectious good mood spreads throughout the room like wildfire, and she eagerly meets those who have come to see her play. Meet her once and she gushes with enthusiasm and appreciation. Meet her twice and she treats you like an old and dear friend.
As I leave the café, the sound of her voice still echoes in my head. My heart is racing, and I feel strangely elated. There’s the possibility that the caffeine running though my system has something to do with it, but I highly doubt that’s the case. I’m experiencing what can only be described as a “concert high” that I’ll be riding for the next several days. Walking through the front doors and out into the cold night, I notice that it’s still raining. But this time around, I don’t care.