And now for something old, a band I used to listen to nearly-obsessively — and the singer most chronically in need of a hug, Hope Sandoval.
If that doesn’t make you bring out the pills, razors and look for a high cliff to jump from, you have a harder heart than I do.
Can’t someone, anyone, just give Hope a hug? Please? I mean, come on.
Mazzy Star is the first band I recall hearing that blended blues, country and goth like that. And I love the small ribbons braided through a bit of her absolute mass of hair.
My then- and still-favorite Mazzy Star song is the one below. I saw the performance below live (on TV) when it aired, way back in 1994.
Hope seemed always not of this world. As haunting as her voice is and as obviously beautiful as she is, even as a young man I never had a crush on her – that’d be like having a crush on the air, or on a half-remembered dream. She seems elemental and at the same time completely removed, someone visiting from a fey land, and soon to return there. She could blow away like the wind, disappear when you turn your back, converge once again with the chthonian realm that lays its eternal true claim on her.
I watched about a dozen covers of “Into Dust” tonight. It’s a simple song. I could probably figure out how to play it on piano in about half an hour if I still played. All of the covers are terrible. Amazing how much that voice of hers matters.
The “happiest” Mazzy Star song.
I’ve never once seen Hope Sandoval smile, or talk to the audience. Not ever. Not that I mind – she still has huge stage presence, and it adds to her mystery. Sometimes mysteries should stay mysteries, as J.J. Abrams knows.