Folk singer and songwriter Alela Diane is “most at peace within audible range of a crackling fire and her cat’s paws padding across the wood floors of her creaky Victorian residence.” It is therefore no surprise that the self-proclaimed homebody traded the California sunshine for damper climates in her move to Portland in the early 2000s. Shortly thereafter, Diane released The Pirate’s Gospel, an album originally packaged in paper and lace sleeves and labeled with handwritten lettering. I specifically remember handling this “creative” record as a DJ at the local radio station in Walla Walla, Washington, and wondering: “Who is this woman, and what in the world will my listeners think?” [All three were incredibly picky]. Despite the high stakes, I gave the record a spin, and the rest is history. Here I am, six years later, still spreading the word, and the word is this: Alela Diane understands.
Diane may be singin’, but she’s really just here to listen. It may be the banjo she’s pluckin’, but that gentle, rhythmic tug on your heart strings will have you double-checking. Her humming threads the holes together without asking where they came from, and her gentle twang transports you to a wooden rocking chair on a cedar porch. Diane’s smooth violin feels like a strand of wheat tucked between your tongue and teeth, and her whistling gives you a more creative and hopeful way to sigh. She may not be a tired woman, but her sound embodies the end of a hard-working day. A day full of brambles and sparrows; rifles and wanderings; a day that most likely had nothing to do with yours, and that’s the beauty of it all. She understands that your stomping grounds are worn and lets you walk somewhere new for a change. Her simple, uncomplicated lyrics don’t demand your attention. Instead, her words look the other way while gently unearthing the messy and exhausted parts of your self.
But, wait a minute: “Who is this woman, and how did she get into my soul?” That was my second thought that fateful evening in the DJ booth. But then her slow, strong sound transported me into a homebody haven of crackling fires and kitty feet, and – for one sweet moment – my dirty little apartment felt a touch Victorian. In return for that favor, I let the question go unanswered.
Alela Diane has come a long way since her days of handmade album jackets. On April 19th she performed three songs on OPB. She recently released a new album, Alela Diane and the Wild Divine, featuring a full band complete with drums, organs, and her father as lead guitarist. Catch her live in Seattle on June 1st at Tractor Tavern or in her hometown on June 4th at Portland’s Mississippi Studios.
Photo by Jérôme via Wikipedia.