Sonya Kitchell plays young at heart with the spirit of an old soul

October 11, 2008, at Schubas

By Selena Fragassi
Published: October 14th, 2008 | 11:50am

Age can be just a number, unless you’re 19-year-old Sonya Kitchell. Watching the petite, blonde-haired siren attack a bluesy beat down of Bob Dylan’s “Highway 61 Revisited” at her October 11 stop in Chicago, I was convinced that someone had made a serious error on her birth certificate. As her feet stomped the ground like a frontline general, her hands waving in the air like an impassioned gospel singer, her microphone so close to her mouth she could have swallowed it whole, it was hard to believe that the sweat glistening across Kitchell’s flushed face was a record of her recent baptism into the world of jazz and blues and classic Americana folk.

It was only two years before, at the ripe age of 17, when the Massachusetts native skipped over the baby steps taken by so many other singer-songwriters and leapt full force into a promising career with her first record, Words Came Back to Me, the second imprint on Starbucks’ Hear Music label. While the release brewed considerable interest from the general public, it percolated long after with jazz legend Herbie Hancock, who invited Kitchell to tour with him on his River: The Joni Letters (Verve) tour.

The experience no doubt led to the improvisational styling on this year’s This Storm (Velour), Kitchell’s freewheeling breakthrough that belies the story of her youth by combining the quiet calm of Joni Mitchell on “Who Knows After All,” the Lucinda Williams bite of “Effortless,” and the burning fever and guitar brass of Heart on “Fire.” It’s a record far beyond Kitchell’s years and one that doesn’t quite balance the checkbook of mastery that her live show does.

While the record serves its purpose to separate Kitchell from the company of her mild-mannered contemporaries, it also lacks the passion and jazzy topcoat that give her live shows a glossy, near-perfect finish. From the dramatic buildup of the single, “For Every Drop,” to the aggressive punch of “No Matter What,” to the out-of-left-field sweetness of the 1950s hit “You Belong to Me,” Kitchell treated Chicago to the best of her repertoire with business-like confidence and the honey-smoked rasp of an emotional hangover, at times purring, at other times shrieking

Perhaps the difference was the addition of her ace backing band, the Slip, an avant-rock trio from Boston comprised of the brothers Barr (Andrew on drums, Brad on guitar and backing vocals) and bassist Marc Friedman. The tempered percussions combined with Brad Barr’s understated guitar epiphanies locked fingers with Kitchell’s songs in an intimate exploration of sound perfect for the small club atmosphere. Add in Eric Krasno of Soulive for an impromptu guest spot on guitar during “Highway 61,” and the night became an old-fashioned duel of serious fret action not seen this side of the Mississippi.

Kitchell herself proved to be a markswoman on the strings, from plucking at mellow folk rhythms to downright assault on dirty blues. Dressed in her skinny jeans and high-to-heaven heels, Kitchell showed her keen ability to stay young at heart while growing up from long-ago coffeehouse gigs to the bigger times ahead at the House of Blues.