Lizzy Ross

A recent review by Andrew Ritchie of the Triangle’s IndyWeekly newspaper:

Lizzy Ross’ Traces
(self-released)
by Andrew Ritchey

Singing for Lafcadio, Lizzy Ross belted indie twang with disregard for whomever her stagecoach ran over. Drums and electric guitar spurred her forward. But on Traces, her solo debut, Ross reins everything, creating a quiet ode to youth and love. Besides the occasional bass or percussion backdrop, it’s just her and her acoustic. Picked guitar patterns provide motifs for extended verses that largely forgo choruses, emphasizing stories and emotion rather than typical song structures.

She visits a boyfriend’s hometown in “Not Yet” and looks at an old photo. “I can see a beard that’s making threats of growing in,” she sings, “but not yet.” Whether discovering the beginnings of love or stealing a husband, as on “Wedding Cake,” Ross creates intimacy with details and near-whispers. She can be sultry or innocent, despondent or hopeful. Throughout, though, her voice jumps octaves and bursts into extended runs, barely containing some hidden joy of youth or the excitement of uncertainty. During “Needle and Thread,” Ross ventures to “stitch together threadbare hearts/ make a new love from old parts.” In Traces, love is wonderful and cruel and steadfast and elusive, and Ross wants all of those pieces.

First of all,

CD RELEASE SHOW THIS SATURDAY!  8:30 at the Local 506.  Buy tickets here.

Now, for the big news – first album review came in today! Piping hot off the press. I opened the enveolope myself.  Just kidding.  There was no envelope – just a web link:  http://dailytarheel.com/dive/music-review-lizzy-ross

A few highlights from Anna Norris of the Daily Tarheel:

“In a voice that’s got enough vibrato, sass and twang for a country singer, Ross’s earnest vocals waver between seduction and Fiona Apple-style intensity. Her lyrics are both clever — “stitch together threadbare hearts, make a new love from old parts”— and fun… just about the perfect antidote to clear away the muggy humidity of a North Carolina summer day”

So come on out and get you an album!

The album release show is on June 26th at the Local 506 in Chapel Hill, NC.  Doors will open at 7, the show starts at 8:30, and tickets are $5 ahead of time at www.local506.com.  They’ll be $7 at the door.  Puritan Rodeo and Big Al Hall will be opening up the show.  Come join us!  We’re hoping to make it our biggest show of the year…

CDs are on sale now at http://lizzy.net/category/buy-the-cd/.  I’ll be signing all the pre-ordered copies, so get ‘em while there’s still time!

Love and excitement,

Lizzy

Here’s a sneak peek of the album artwork. Click on the photos for a closer look!

the inside is decorated with my own doodles – sketches that I associate with the songs.

The release show will be at the Local 506 in Chapel Hill, NC on June 26th.  Buy the album there or go to http://lizzy.net/category/buy-the-cd/ to get it now!

CROSS THE CUYAHOGA

(c) Lizzy Ross 2010

Well, he’s balancing on one rail, rust against bare toes, / Down by the tracks where the hyacinth grow /Not allowed back there, but mama don’t care,/ mama don’t care cause she don’t know where he goes. / Leaves the backyard baseball till it’s time to eat,/ Crosses the Cuyahoga, cleans those dusty feet,/ Gets them black again all over, running out to meet / The afternoon, the backwoods, and a friend or two. / Years fly by like train cars on old, forgetful tracks / Soon he’s singing Springsteen songs all summer long, and taking whiskey back/ where the wildflowers turn to wildfires burning in the woods,/ and a teenage boy can get his hands on his share of the goods./ Leave the books behind you, go find something sweet,/ cross over the Cuyahoga, clean those dusty feet,/ get them black again all over, running out to meet / the setting sun, the night’s begun./ Now me, I’m from the east coast, and In my town we sail,/ But I met a man who’s made me think I’d rather go by rail /And we’re miles from his old station, but the same tracks run through here / And if we walked them far enough we’d cut right through the years/ to play some backyard baseball in the summer heat, / cross over the Cuyahoga, clean those dusty feet,/ get them black again all over, running out to meet the morning sky, / gonna catch a ride,/  hopping the same line, /  sitting side by  side.

NEEDLE AND THREAD

(c) Lizzy Ross 2010

I got a needle, been sewing all night, / trying to fix what don’t fit right. / You’ve got a heart about halfway torn, / hole in the middle and the edges worn. / When I reach out for your hand, / all I get is a ragged strand, / and if I gave you everything, / you’d leave me hanging by a string. / Some other lover tore you up, / ran you ragged, loved you rough, / trust in tatters, faith all frayed, / sure your love will be betrayed. I got a needle and I got thread, / but I can’t get inside your head, / and if I wanna leave then I got the right, / but I got a needle and I’m sewing all night. / You’ve got a thread that runs through me, / thin enough that I can’t see. / Strong enough I can’t break free, / long enough that I’m lonely. / It takes two to patch things up / make it whole where holes are cut, / stitch together threadbare hearts, / make a new love from old parts. / I got a needle, been sewing all night. / Trying to fix what don’t fit right. / You’ve got a heart about halfway torn, / hole in the middle and the edges worn

NOT YET

(c) Lizzy Ross 2010

I stole a buckeye from your old bedroom./ A baseball cap, a flannel shirt, a photo of you/ scowling in a classroom, trying to hide a grin,/ ten years younger, hair much longer, hand upon your chin,/ and I can see a beard that’s making threats of growing in,/ but not yet./ You took me out to meet your hometown friends/ and every face, it matched a name, and I knew the stories—most of them./ I thought I saw your name etched in the table at that bar./ I pictured you engraving that lovely little scar./ Your mark is near as permanent upon my heart,/ but not yet./ All in good time,/ that’s what they tell me. / You only learn if you keep going. / But the deeper we “go,”/ the deeper I fall,/ even though I’ve got no way of knowing—Not yet./ And as we’re driving down the backroads home/ you pull over, quiet the radio,/ turn to me and look me in the eyes,/ start to speak, but only sigh./ If you can’t say it, maybe I can try – / It’s difficult to tell if love will stay./ In theory it could work out lots of ways./ But I don’t really mean it when I say/ not yet./ All in good time,/ that’s what they tell me. / You only learn if you keep going./ But the deeper we “go,”/ the deeper I fall,/ even though I’ve got no way of knowing—/ no way to know where this is going—/ not yet.

WEDDING CAKE

(c) Lizzy Ross 2009

Last week I sang a song to get me through; / the song I sang was you. / And I declare, I do not care / If that song I sang was true. / Well, I found out it wasn’t, dear, / but it’s a song I love to hear / even so.  Yeah, yes I know. / Don’t worry, she made it clear. / I won’t be at your door tomorrow. / I won’t be at your door to borrow / butter, flour, sugar, eggs, / all the things it takes to make / myself the finest wedding cake. / All those shells that I will break, / I will break for you. / This week I met the woman that you chose / to hang your trousers by her hose, / with those quiet eyes / no one down between her thighs. / And bursting with excitement of the new, / she told me about you. / Well, she declared how much she cared, / just knowing that her love was true. / She will be at my door tomorrow. / She will be at my door to borrow / butter, flour, sugar, eggs, / all the things it takes to make / myself the finest wedding cake. / All those shells that she will break, / she will break for you. / I see the wink of your eye,  / hinting at better times. / Hinting, and you remind me / you never kept promises, anyway. / But quiet dear, the cake will fall, the cake will fall, / It’s gonna fall. / This Tuesday at a café I observed / a young bride having some dessert. / She took it with a man, / wearing no ring on her hand. / And as I looked I saw above her smile / a pair of quiet eyes. / She’d seen the new and gotten crude / she wanted something oversize. / You will be at my door tomorrow. / You will be at my door to borrow / anything you need,  / a candlestick, a tumbleweed,  / a woman with an itch to scratch, / a bed on which to lay your back, and / we will break your vows together. / We will break your vows together.

TRACES

(c) Lizzy Ross 2009

Racing the night to get to you. / I know you thought that we were through, / but I can’t leave behind those nights; / the river in the dying light. / Who knows what one more try will do? / Every time I close my eyes, / like mist across the water, visions rise. / The raindrops sliding off your skin, / holding my breath and jumping in / our bodies finally collide. / All these traces lead me back to you, / and all these places—I’m just passing through. / All these faces, none of them are yours. / I don’t know what I left you for; / I just know I can’t live like this anymore. / I left you dreaming in the sun, / sprawled out on the rocks, your hair undone. / I loved you then, but didn’t know, / I only knew I had to go. / A love like that can make you run. / And when I finally came around, / I went back to that old river town. / I looked for you, but you weren’t there, / the locals said a love affair / had broken up and brought you down. / All these traces lead me back to you, / and all these places—I’m just passing through. / All these faces, none of them are yours. / I don’t know what I left you for; / I just know I can’t live like this anymore. /  I’m on your front porch, got your paper in my hand / I’ve been waiting for you; I got it all planned. / Give me one more chance and I’ll explain, / through every single thing I’ve seen, / I only wished that I could be with you again.

MARIA

(c) Lizzy Ross 2008

Maria, Maria, been so long since I’ve seen you. / Maria, Maria, been so long since you’ve heard my voice. /And I don’t quite know how to / tell you what I must tell you. / Maria, Maria, you haven’t heard from me in so long. / Maria, Maria, tell me, how was Sevilla? / Maria, Maria, tell me, how was Rome? / Were the boys there so pretty? / Did you feel wanted and witty? / Maria, Maria, when are you coming home? / Dancing lights behind your eyes / Blind me; they hypnotize / They remind me that you light up my skies / they remind me, don’t wanna break these ties. / Shining words and astral highs / can’t take you up beyond goodbye, but / why would I want to say good bye? / I don’t know why I want to say goodbye. /Maria, Maria, please explain what I’ve heard. / Maria, Maria, I swear I didn’t swallow a word. / I just kept walking on, past lines of right and wrong. / I thought that I did it for you, but the promise I broke was to me.