Carrie Bradley

Charming, Amazingly Talented, And Good with Animals. Carrie Bradley Sings Solo Just For You! Doc's Clock, July 25th

by Beth Bachtold

I used to live next door to Carrie Bradley, veteran San Francisco singer/songwriter/guitarist/violinist and founding member SF's power-popped 100 Watt Smile (http://www.100wattsmile.com). I had a lovely view of her kitchen from my deck-it was charming and whimsical, full of pretty knick-knacks, do-dads, and shiny glass objects that caught the afternoon light. I knew of Carrie as an accomplished local musician, having seen her play around town with the Buckets and Ed's Redeeming Qualities; and, of course, most people who knew of Carrie and her wide range of talent, knew she'd played violin with the Breeder's (http://www.noaloha.com) and would subsequently tour with them. I met Carrie only once back in those next-door days, when my cat got stuck in her yard and she delivered the confused creature back to me.

So, when five years later, the opportunity arose to review her July 25th solo show at Doc's Clock, I thought I'd love to re-connect, and see what was she was up to musically these days. Prior to the show, I dropped her an e-mail re-introducing myself, mentioning our neighbor-ness, the kitty incident and my admiration for her beautiful old kitchen (it's okay when girls check out other girl's kitchens, it's not a creepy peeping-tom thing). She kindly replied, happy that I was going to come to her show and divulged the terrible truth behind the seemingly lovely kitchen: Mildew. The vile growth had ruined most of her possessions and left her with very unfond memories of the place on Potrero.

Art has a funny way of imitating life and vice versa, and after much joyful listening to 100 Watt Smile tunes and quiet introspection, I've discovered Carrie's songs are like that kitchen - beautiful, whimsical, shiny on the outside, but with something lurking underneath them-something not so always nice, not so pretty like, say, the truth. Carrie's songs are charming and whimsy-filled, but they're also real -- genuinely dosed with reality, sarcasm and a sweet cynicism.

They're fairy tales, but more like one where Sleeping Beauty might have really just drank too much vodka -- and NO kiss, not even one from some Prince Charming, is gonna wake her up until she sleeps it off! So, on this unsurprisingly chilly July Sunday night (4 out of 5 doctors recommend Sunday night shows - good for the heart), my pal and I arrived at a quiet, cozy Doc's Clock, ordered a couple glasses of cheap red and while waiting for the show to start, played with Billie, the rambunctious shepherd mix that kept running back and forth from behind the bar (would this make her a genuine Bark Back?). Carrie arrived unassumingly, pleasantly scented like vanilla, and began to set up. Within five minutes the place was packed, and the majority of people were squeezed into the "listening" section in back - this gal has devoted fans!! - and for good reason.

Admitting to being a little nervous up there "all alone," and to not having practiced the new songs "that much," Carrie overcame this and challenging acoustics to lull a mesmerized crowd as only an accomplished fairy-tale teller can. With guitar in hand, she played new 100-Watt Smile material as well as some oldies from her Ed's Redeeming Qualities days. Her signature, breathy, vocal style accompanied cryptic, Alice-in-wonderland-like-lyrics and held our attention as we listened and knowingly smiled/smirked with understanding and camaraderie at scenarios we may have at one time experienced ourselves.

Take, for example, "Green Glass," -- at once both your "looking-for-love-in-a-bar" ballad and fantastic lyrical journey. Like that old kitchen I was so fascinated with, "Green Glass," grabs your attention, hypnotizes you and finds you thinking everything's possibly okay with the world, yes, there's a happy ending in sight. But, in the end, the heroine of this song, desperately wanting to take the high road, asks her barstool companion, "Isn't there something between talk and sex? Is there a place between obsession and apathy?"-- only to be told it's his place, his apartment, and it's her decision. What might have had a fairy-tale ending is yet another lesson in reality ("And he stood up and she says, 'I'm talking about faith. I'm talking about beauty. I'm talking about Green Glass in a junkyard.' And he says, 'I know that. It's up to you.' And he left.").

Carrie Bradley's songs are not a "downer." There's beauty in truth and truth in beauty and even beauty in the sometimes unfortunate (but often necessary) ugliness in between. Carrie Bradley's songs are about, well, Life and all that in-between stuff -- lovingly presented to you in stereo, with whimsy, charm, creatively hypnotic lyricism, incredible instrumentation and a dash of hope thrown in for good measure. Her "I Met A Man," puts a good amount of perspective on it--"I met a man who told me his recipe for romance. He said don't look up, don't look back, forget your past, and wear a seatbelt."

So, buckle up and get yourself on down to Slim's (333-11th Street, SF), Sunday, September 19th, 8:00 p.m. for your own loving dose of relative reality served up by Carrie Bradley and 100 Watt Smile. They open for the Church!

P.S. I moved out of my old apartment soon after Carrie and her roommates vacated theirs--my bathroom had succumbed to some sort of wall rot of its own (those places sure looked pretty from the outside). Some not-so-nice people moved in after Carrie moved out. Now they deserved the mildew.

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