#cry babe

but we’re also calling her cry babe

I don’t often get to catch a new band when they first start, but Cry Babe is a very new band, who only just put out their first two songs under this moniker. “Picard”, possibly named for the short sample from “Star Trek” that precedes it, in which Capt. Picard protests “What am I supposed to just sit and wait?!”, is a love song addressed to someone who’s gone and maybe not coming back. “How can I be my own woman?” sings Anaïs Genevieve, who also plays guitar and Omnichord in the band, unsure who she is alone, and unable to do anything but wait or her lover’s return (and watch “Star Trek” in the meantime). Her voice is seriously powerful and dripping with drama—not the kind of drama that people mean when they say “I’m sick of people’s drama”, but like, but something more like opera or a musical. Genevieve's voice is the band's not-at-all-secret weapon. Nobody I know of in town, much less in national indie rock, sings like this. She pretty much grabs you and doesn't let go. In fact, because I was late to a show, I have, so far, only saw about 30 seconds of Cry Babe live, and Anaïs' voice immediately made me go "what the fuck?!" and them "Wait, no, more??!" but then my own band had to play. You could call her singing melodramatic in a bad way but I dunno, isn't that what emotions are sometimes? So if you think that maybe you have a problem with you self buddy. She’s counterposed by the fuzzy bass (I think that’s bass anyway) of Maddie Putney, adding another strong melodic element on an instrument that usually sits in the back. It all adds up to a brownie-and-ice-cream dessert of longing, breathing sincerity into just about the oldest sort of song one can imagine. “Glasses” is an even heavier, less sweet, more smoldering song, almost like Cry Babe’s version of the blues. Genevieve sounds almost menacing, really letting her voice go in a way few artists in Portland even seem to. She’s got an impressive ranges, soaring into painful cries and lunging into the depths. The band rambles along in waltz time like with a forceful heft that reminds me of the neglected Pavement gem “Kentucky Cocktail”. But that’s just how it should be—there’s something always a bit volatile here. It’s not about settled feelings—what feelings are settled anyway? Finally, dream pop is starting to have nightmares! Look out for Cry Babe, they’ll probably be nigh-unavoidable soon.

Cry Baby//Melanie Martinez