“Not only has God graced her with a gorgeous voice, her songs are undeniably catchy”.
- American Songwriter
QUINCY COLEMAN COMES H-OM-E TO THE HOTEL CAFE
OCTOBER 5, 2018
BY ROB HILL
RIDERS OF THE SAINTS
WHEN: SEPTEMBER 30TH, 2018
WHAT: Quincy Coleman’s inaugural H-OM-E event, the artist’s vision of hosting an experience that creates, educates and celebrates Consciousness & Unity.
THE PLAYERS: Contributed and co-created by Dave Stringer, Kimberly Haynes, Michael Mollura, Joey Lugassy, Andrew Keegan, Josh Radnor, The Hotel Café, and LAYoga
You don’t need to look much farther than Quincy Coleman to know the Reign of the Dragon is coming to an end. But Coleman, a born and bred Hollywood Gen Xer, couldn’t give a shit about all that existential stuff right now. She’s casually on stage sound-checking for her re-coming out gig. You see, she’s lived in this town her whole life. Played at all the spots. Left, and come back, and left again, and come back again. Oh, she’s had songs in movies and TV shows, made myriad of albums, toured the country, spent time in Nashville. She’s swam in the Hollow-swamp since the world began, it seems, and has carefully and gracefully made her way through it. And now she’s Here. A Pisces arch-Angel bard, an utterly present—and talented!—Survivor about to catch a big wave, finally ready and open for wherever it takes her—and US. Ride the saints, baby.
That’s the vibe.
Like targeted prayer calls shooting out of a pink sky (her newly rosy-hair falling out from under her black velvet fedora) Coleman’s songs—folksy, fun, deep sing a-along (p)salms—don’t point fingers, don’t talk down to, or judge. The Quincy Coleman experience isn’t about judgment; it’s all about inclusion and faith.
And, well, they rock. They are at once easy to listen to and deeply moving, poetic and prayerful, catchy and sacred, chart-climbing yet pure, a proverbial musical stew I’ve never quite seen before.
Here you get a Joplin-esque lick with deep, guttural belts, that then gives way to a soaring Jeff Buckley-like wail, pleasantly repeated over and over like mantras (“I am that I am, I am that I am, I am that I am”); then right into a ballad about surviving stage 4 cancer by not fighting the disease but surrendering to it—and then vanquish it completely; and finally a repentance croon/plea thanking our CREATOR for still giving us a shot at redemption.
As a Babylonian native, Coleman is well aware that the very place she is singing, just a block from the infamous BLVD. of discarded souls, was not-too-long-ago acres of sprawling fruit orchards, nut farms, and valleys and mountains of Edenic beauty plunging down to warm, creamy beaches and a skin-tingling, cleansing ocean. Not too long ago. I feel it consciously, and sometimes unconsciously, sprinkled, like Angelic dusk-feathers, all over the tunes. It’s soaked into the lyrics, the openness and honesty of the words. Her voice seems to be bathed in a big, blue blessing of a Full Moon SPOTlight, a voice able to seemingly traverse across all octave stages, sometimes even effortlessly juggling 3 or 4 in the same song.
She also understands the art of theatre. It’s in her blood. Bones. Soul. She knows it inside and out, up and down. And tonight she’s conjuring all these hard-won tools into a body of songs, beginning the urgent task of writing the soundtrack for our new era: THE GREAT AWAKENING.
In these end times, Coleman’s songs are buoyant gems—preciously and playfully—carved to be played on our great CREATOR’S jukebox.
Coleman's stage is simple and intimate—a four-piece band that swells to a six with a rousing recitation of the prayer/poem “OUR FATHER.” But for all the nakedness, you can never quite fully see Coleman. Can’t quite get a fix on her. She’s always shifting, like Technicolor mist or something. Her audience is her covenant and her rainbow of characters play out the drama of her hymns. She bounces from Glory to CREATOR quips to cursing like a sailor (“I only try to use 3 curse words a night”; tonight she had 4!) to having a moment of silence for her friend’s mom who had just passed on….”transitioned.” Then back into a joyously somber sing-along.
While Coleman is no doubt the center of this musical ministry, she is a humble and enigmatic one, like a sci-fi figure from the future that’s come back with tales and visions and…secrets. The perfect plum role-of-a-lifetime: Balancing and thriving on the tricky vine of faith vs what we know, and singing and strumming her ass off about it.
And then, just like that, it’s over. Or is it? If you’ve been paying attention, you too are now balancing on that sweet and slippery vine, hymn-ing her songs in the car while cruising by the fast food joints, bars, and massage dens of Babylon. But don’t fret, there’s new cherub back in town with a pocket full of Spirit-driven songs for these times that are a changin’.
Hallelujah! (And don’t fuck with her.)
"Come closer baby, read between my lips/You drive me crazy, I can feel it in my hips," Quincy Coleman beckons on "Calling Your Name," the sinewy, shuffling opening track on her self-released sophomore
"Come closer baby, read between my lips/You drive me crazy, I can feel it in my hips," Quincy Coleman beckons on "Calling Your Name," the sinewy, shuffling opening track on her self-released sophomore CD, "Come Closer."
The Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter grew up Tinseltown elite as the daughter of actor Dabney Coleman and actress Jean Hale Coleman, but her songs draw on such universal themes as desire and unrequited love. The melodies are pop, but the arrangements—with organs and horns bursting out of nowhere—elevate the tunes far above the ordinary. Following Coleman's return from an East Coast tour, noncommerical KCRW Santa Monica, Calif., will host a release party for the singer May 9 at Hotel Cafe in Los Angeles.
Her music, which was heard in "Dawson's Creek," is also featured on the "Crash" soundtrack. Look for it in the upcoming Jason Alexander movie, "How to Go on a Date in Queens."
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QUINCY COLEMAN (unsigned, unpublished) -- We're sure you've heard of Los Angeles songstress Quincy Coleman -- write-ups in Billboard, Music Connection, Paste, American Songwriter, etc. Regular airplay from KCRW's Nic Harcourt has also brought her to the forefront of the L.A. singer/songwriter scene. But if you haven't seen her live yet, you're truly missing out. Performing with her onstage is a full band featuring piano, guitar, accordion, clarinet, bass, trumpet, drums and whatever kitchen pots & pans are lying around. Quincy (yes, she's actor Dabney Coleman's daughter) and her band will perform at the Hotel Cafe in Los Angeles tomorrow night (2/28) at 10 PM. Label reps from Universal and Concord have confirmed attendance. Check the MySpace page to hear music -- "Want Me Back" is our personal fave.