A
t one point during
Jenny
Choi's most recent DC appearance at the Velvet Lounge, she
yelled "Hooray for Nerds!" while half-leaping into the
air behind her keyboard and stomping
on the stage. I forget exactly why
[ed. note: She was talking about
Sherwood
Anderson, author of
Winesburg, OH.
Yes, I am a nerd also] - I believe
she was likening herself to that much-maligned
demographic after trying to explain
how a certain author inspired an upcoming
song - but this outburst encapsulates
Choi's appeal, and the appeal of her
latest album
Postcard
Stories: a bubbly persona that
ices obvious intelligence and depth.
One look at Stories' lyrics, and it's immediately apparent that Choi is a writer - the album title is no half-assed throwaway. The lyrics themselves are hyper-literate compared to most bands (with a special knack for imagery), and on top of that, Choi wrote a postcard story to pair with each song - 11 in total. A postcard story is a formal term for an extremely short narrative - there seems to be varying defined lengths (250 words, 500 words), but Choi claims a limit of 150 words. The accompanying story to "Day by Day" for example:
DAY BY DAY
Mira leans over the window of her apartment, looking down at the intersection of Damen and Division. She swirls a glass of whiskey before swallowing the heat down, making her temples sweat under the suffocating humidity of the heavy air. Her mind wanders as the aimless bustle of the street below provides the soundtrack to her thoughts, making forgetting easier.
As you might infer from the above, the lyrical content tends towards the blue - "thematically united in ... approach to heartache and nostalgia" - but the music itself tends toward the sunny, a mood accentuated by Choi's sweet, guileless voice. Keyboard-based, the songs meld inspiration from Bacharach, twee pop, occasional funk, and jazz. The flow of the songs match the narrative style of the lyrics, not the standard pop verse/chorus.
My own postcard impressions of some of Stories' tracks: "George Bailey" and "Stronger" (it's too easy to believe / that it's just a gap in time / and we'll have our ever after) are highlights of driving bittersweet pop. "Plastic Mask" delves into a 70's R&B groove (smoke escapes in swirly shapes / across the spaces of her teeth / as sharp as knives), "Driving" is piano pop employing a nice little time shift at the end. "So Far Gone" brings in a cello to supply a darker foundation to a more heavily produced ballad. "Looking Up" frenetically tinkers with a chorus that edges toward rock. And "Velvet and Brass" ends the album with a simple piano-only ballad (your name's embalmed inside my head, / preserved in jelly and muffles all / light and sound).
From the label material, it sounds as if Choi wrote the companion stories after the songs, but taken together, they could almost form the basis of a musical - the story set contains two "plot" threads, and the songs expand the inner thoughts of the characters like the musical form dictates. In any event, it would be an interesting format for an indie rock concert.
Jenny Choi's situation is currently evolving: she just quit her day job, and is now performing under the name Sanawon (Korean for "fierce"). But based on this album, there's many more good things to come from her Chicago base.
Jenny Choi founded the successful Asians in Rock (AIR) tour, which she frequently performs with. Look for another possible DC date in late summer ...
