Hymns. The Boy Who Could Fly sings modern hymns. They are life affirming songs of renewable hope and courage. For the misfits, the mismatched, the ones who may have been misunderstood in high school, her songs are the survivor sounds; the hand on the back that says, “It’s ok now. Here we are still.” Amongst that overall theme, her work is grounded by underlying moments of faith wavering and post-teen life crisis. It stays real.

Each release to date features minimal guitar playing with a display of clever variations on the power chord. Her Squier Tele (guess I’ve seen her play live a lot) gets a turn to maybe five on the amplifier knob. The vocals are layered texts, also reverb dosed. She sings thin and sweet and the sound is deeply earnest. I am always surprised by her candy jar of pop sense spilling all over the melodies. They keep me and I keep them.

2009’s Kindergarten cassette release proves The Boy Who Could Fly is the master of the bedroom recording. Deep thoughts filtered by a lo-fi recording device from someone who may have just slept in and is late for work.  That’s how relatable it is. Legacy. An afterlife. Will we rejoin our loved ones when we go? Here is a short acapella number called DEATH HYMN to help us cope and carry on though the answers lie only in the great beyond. Fly along here and stream three of The Boy Who Could Fly’s self-released, self-scrawled art and layout, underground gems.

“If only death could be

like going to the movies.

You get up afterward

and go out

saying, how was it?

Tell me, tell me how was it.”

Maxine Kumin, Summer Meditation from Where I live 2010

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