AMY SALISBURY
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
The world is much different than it was just 30 years ago. Technology makes communication possible when there’s literally a planet between two people.
It’s true, though, that the notion of texting a best friend or loved one is much less romanticized than a kindly crafted letter sent through snail mail. Phone calls, while becoming increasingly less-expensive methods of cross-country communication, still lack that truly personal feeling. Skype is too dependent on the strength of one’s Internet connectivity to contend with the aforementioned methods, so we won’t bother with that for now.
It seems (to me, anyway), that the best form to communicate with someone you’re missing is to find him or her in your daily life. And that is exactly what Irish songstress Lisa Hannigan accomplishes in the most poetic way possible.
Irish native Lisa Hannigan was born in 1981 in County Meath. She began performing professionally with fellow Irish musician Damien Rice in 2001, mostly singing with him on recordings and occasionally contributing guitar or bass in live performances. Hannigan also appears on recordings with The Frames, Snow Patrol lead singer Gary Lightbody and the late Mic Christopher. Hannigan focused the majority of her career on backup singing for Rice.
In 2007, Hannigan and Rice had a “falling out” of sorts, and she immediately left his tour to begin solo work. In early 2009, “Sea Sew,” her debut album, was released in the States.
Hannigan’s quietly powerful, breathy vocals combine with ethereal poetic styling to produce tracks with as much soul as they have substance. “Sea Sew” contains songs that seem to address an unnamed love interest (or a few of them) Hannigan calls “gentle spoken friend[s]” or “my love.”
“An Ocean and a Rock,” the first track off “Sea Sew,” portrays Hannigan as someone going about her day with someone so strongly in her mind that he or she is in her overcoat, her coffee, and clearly, her mind. “I spoon you into my coffee cup / I spin you through a delicate wash / I wear you all day,” Hannigan hums. She finds this person in everything she touches, proclaiming that the distance that “an ocean and a rock” creates means nothing to her. Cheerful strings, jazzy drums and a tender guitar complete the hopeful song’s orchestration.
Perhaps Hannigan was on tour when she wrote this song, halflamenting of the space between a dear friend and her. People’s lives take different roads more frequently than some might prefer, but coping with the distance is as easy as using your day to remember what (and who) you love.
Hannigan is currently on tour throughout Ireland.
Photos courtesy of images.coveralia.com, htbackdrops.com