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Female song writer sings 'Independence'by Toby Fallsgraff
With song titles like "Independence" and "Confidence" and with stingingly self-assured lyrics such as "That girl up on stage/it isn't me, but it sure as hell should be," it's hard to belittle songwriter and OU student Kori Simonson's personal strength. But she is quick to point out her own shyness. "It makes me nervous as hell to sit down here and have to talk about myself," she says. "I don't know how to sing; I don't even know if I sing from my diaphragm. I think I do." But don't let her modesty, her slick, jazzy vocal delivery, her precise guitar work, and her fluid sense of melody fool you-Simonson is the model songwriter for the empowered woman. A junior audio production major at OU, Simonson recently has brought an interesting new sound to the face of Athens music. A blend of folk, jazz and acoustic rock, her style is refreshing. Stemming from a variety of influences, her lyrics never fail to be emotional and her personal narratives are assembled with a sort of poetic rhythm. "I'll write about my friends or my family, or even just the scenery," she says. A typically quiet person, Simonson, a former cheerleader and soccer player, funnels her thoughts into journals, which are her main source for lyrics. Simonson says her family has had an especially important influence on her music. Her mother, Karen, has been a central figure throughout Simonson's life. As a single mother raising three children, Karen demonstrated individuality and strength to her second daughter. Simonson also credits her older sister, Kristin, to whom she has always looked up, as the inspiration behind some of her songs. It was her mother and her sister who pushed her, despite her nervousness, into playing her first open microphone performance last summer at a Case Western Reserve Arabica, a coffee house in Cleveland. "Insomnia Queen," one of Simonson's songs, tells the story of her second cousin Lillian, whose father died and whose twin brother was put up for adoption when she was ten, leaving her alone to care for her alcoholic mother. "I take your shoes off for you, if you don't throw them at me first," the lyrics read. "Those heels will dent the wall." "(Writing songs) marks a space in time for me," Simonson says. "When I play a song, I go back to the same place to bring the audience into a certain moment or a feeling I had." From Simonson's first day at OU, when she saw guitarists lining College Green, she has found university life to be very musically accommodating. "Going to work every day in the same place is something that scares me. Here, I think there's room for a stimulus," she says. "I can take a walk on a whim. I can stay up all night playing guitar." On the floor, amongst Tori Amos and Fiona Apple music books, a pile of compact discs and her journal full of lyrics, Simonson sits cross-legged, her feet disappearing under her long olive green skirt. She fills the silence in her monologue with a riff or two from her song "Day-Decorated Sleep." "The beginning of it is (a kid's song), and the end of it is (too), but I'm not really sure what the rest of this is," she explains, pointing to her journal with her strumming hand. "I'm still in the school bus; I can't really see over the seat," she says, setting the scene for the song. Simonson's love affair with music began long ago. "When I was little, I would walk around singing, 'I was born on a Sunday, a Sunday...' over and over again just to piss my siblings off," she says, smiling. "I think middle children ... they're usually weird, right?" After saving money for a car, she decided to buy a piano instead when she turned sixteen. This past winter break, she bought a new guitar, a Taylor acoustic, which she speaks of in a mother/child fashion. She still doesn't have a car. Simonson's signature song, "Independence," also happens to be her personal favorite of the thirteen she has crafted. "It's in an open tuning. I just start strumming it and it makes me happy," she says. On stage, however, tuning her Taylor specifically for "Independence" brings forward the natural shyness that is usually well hidden behind her coolness in performance. "That's not me up there - it's the guitar," she says, trying to explain her stage mentality. Considering she wrote her first song last spring, Simonson plays the scene like a pro. O'Hooley's Pub, 24 W. Union St., Casa Nueva, 4 W. State St, Femme Fest, a recent concert at Baker University Center's Front Room, and about a dozen open microphone performances are proof of the exposure and recognition the young solo artist has been receiving this year. "There is a lot of good music in Athens," she says. "It's a community - a music community." Playing only originals, Simonson has worked to establish her songbook, a characteristic that has set her apart from the rest. She is quick to add that a fear of screwing up others' songs contributes to her all-Simonson set lists. "I'd like to write jingles," she says, envisaging the long-term. "I'd have to be a little more upbeat, but it'll be like mass consumption. "Yeah, I want to sell out." Simonson will be playing Open Stage with Bruce Dalzell at 8 p.m. at the Front Room on June 1. |