Concert Review: Vera Sola Brings Wonderland To Mercury Lounge
I can pretty much sum up Vera Sola’s performance with Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” lyrics; “One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small/ And the ones that mother gives you, don’t do anything at all/ Go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall.” By the end of her Mercury Lounge show, you were asking Alice everything about the strangeness of life, and Vera’s poetic verses were her only response.
Vera Sola treats the stage as if its a wonderland; she slithers and sways across it like the Caterpillar smoking her hookah, i.e her guitar, and shedding curt wisdom to the “Alices” of the audience that need help getting back to size. Tracks like, “The Colony,” “Circles,” and “Small Minds” stood out as affronts to those that let themselves get caught in others “influences” or “wisdoms” over how to grow. It may sound strange, but her lyrics prove that she is a bright woman looking to get wise for herself. She understands intelligence is only a step to wisdom that, if not met with a sense of self-love and respect for the world, dwindles into another “smart mind” with no common sense or uniqueness. Thus, from “The Cage” to “New Nights,” she sung and threw herself on the floor like a woman ready to tear the stage up to find something/ someone righteously distinguishable.
For some reason, when we see strong, female vocalists we find them bewitching, of which Vera Sola, literally, puts a spell on you. Sonically, her rhythms feel enchanting; as if even the drums behind her are whispering a chant. As she kicks her leg or turns her shoulder as if to sing literally pushed her, you fall in love with how deeply connected she is to her music. It is always a boost to one’s performance when you emanate how much you love the stage and your work. For Vera Sola, you see that love with how she embodies her music, which is why she, oddly, taught me why we compare such folksy vocalists to gypsies. When you own your power, as a woman, you come off mystical, nomadic, wild, and like a rare gold unable to be owned. Frankly, I love it.
Vocally, Vera Sola sing hers verses like they are a French film noir; they move in paced, black and white images to turn sultriness into self-discovery. For her, the most beautiful thing you can do is be yourself and discover whomever that is. Thus, she rolls and quivers her lyrics as if they are emotional walls cracking to let “the light” of her back in. The result is a show that feels both fantastical and insular, like the isolated birth of a galaxy. For More Information On Vera Sola Click Here.
