Like kickin’ an old bad habit It’s hard; but I’m not standard. We locked eyes from far away and then you slowly turned your face. Like middle school; we’re a secret. There’s more to it, but we keep back. It’s not a game –I only know we are moving at our pace.
Remember in the winter? Had to stop…it’s making me hot. Come on down. There’s no need to hide. Could you be my new love? Could it be that we need some time? I’m still aroused and there’s no need to hide.
It’s all I dreamed of…to get it started. Time goes by really slow and I need to let it.
It’s all I dreamed of…to get it started. Time goes by really slow and I Need to let it out
I’m keeping you close, you know it. And I’m taking my time to show it. You’re touching me like you’ve had it all along Feels like you’re right. Once you’re around I notice that I need to draw you closer. I break away. I wonder how you keep it all inside.
Remember in the winter? Had to stop…it’s making me hot. Come on down. There’s no need to hide. Could you be my new love? Could it be that we need some time? I’m still aroused and there’s no need to hide.
It’s all I dreamed of…to get it started. Time goes by really slow and I Need to let it out.
Could you be my new love? It’s all I’ve dreamed of.
I’ve Been Secretly Hoarding Alice Smith’s New Songs. I Recorded Them Live One Year & Have Been Listening To Them In Private Laughing Like An Evil Genius…Don’t Worry I’ll Be First In Line To Buy The Studio Version —But Nothing Like A Live Soundtrack To Make It All The More Personal
- @Tre_ThePoet
Been so long
Meet me at the station; we can take a taxi home…maybe.
It’s time for conversation…catch up on some things; I don’t know what.
You say we done it all…the flame went out, the spark is gone.
But what if you’re wrong?
It’s been so long since you’ve seen me…
How can you know how you really feel?
If we run out of things to say, I promise I won’t make you feel bad.
We’ll just roll the windows down
We’ll drive around this town
And be…be.
Yea, yea.
Will you sleep tonight; or will you lie awake, like me…like me?
Pillow to pillow
Back to back
Pulling the sheets and all of that
Waiting for eyes to meet.
Yea…
Wake me when you wake up
Miss me when we break up
Kiss me when we make up
Yea…
I know it’s not the same but
Don’t wanna say we gave up
Please don’t give the game up
Cuz if you don’t know what to say, I promise I won’t make you feel bad.
No…no.
Cuz you’re not the only one who’s scared
To say you’re still in love. Oh.
If we run out of things to say, I promise I won’t make you feel bad.
No…no.
We’ll just roll the windows down
We’ll drive around this town
And be…be.
Yea, yea.
So when the right words won’t come out
As the city lights pass us by
Let the silence be on your side
And I’ll hear everything I need to hear
Yea, yea….ohhh.
We’ve been through it all
And if you don’t know what to say, I promise I won’t make you feel bad
No…no.
We’ll just roll the windows down
We’ll drive around this town
And be…be.
Yea, yea.
- Daley
I am trying not to tap my foot to the music in the background; so I cross my legs at the ankle. I always sit this way when trying to mask my fervent angst. It has only been months last since I’d seen her; but my heart is racing all the same. My sweaty palms clutch the second round martini in front of me as my eyes adjust to the dimmed lighting. People are filing in now, pairs of two and three, squeezing pass barstools and impatient waiters taking drink orders. Five minutes before curtain, the band slowly slides onto stage, real reserved-like, exchanging winks and playful banter as they set up.
Before I can place the chilled vodka to my lips, she appears. The band starts up right away and I remember now why Rolling Stone called her “intoxicating”. She introduces herself as Alice Smith and tells Philadelphia how happy she is to be back. The, then silent, crowd launches into an uproar and the first guitar strings of her debut single “Dream” ring through the small café. The room quiets down to a gentle hum as Alice pours out her heart.
When I accidentally stumbled upon the Neo-Soul album, For Lovers, Dreamers and Me, Alice’s first, I had no clue I would fall this madly in love with her voice. She sings from her gut, throwing her lyrics to the back of the room and lunging forward as she extends her notes. I don’t sing along with her like everyone else does; I can’t…a voice that bracing needs no followers. I just close my eyes and sway back and forth.
She’s on her third or forth song before I finally open my eyes and take in my surroundings. The Tin Angel is little lounge right off of Market Street down Olde City; it sits above a quaint restaurant that is snuggled between two bars. The interior is synonymous with the lively nightlife of Philadelphia. The walls are painted with abstract objects and fictional characters like the four cats wearing tuxedos and toasting with champagne vessels. The bar sits opposite a makeshift stage where; although ridiculously overpriced, the drinks are to die for. The red fluorescent lights are on a constant low to give into that beatnik poetry atmosphere.
I glance over at my date whose eyes are glued to Alice –whose five six frame is like a giant to me; elevated only a couple feet from the bar floor but illuminated by large lights set above her head. She dons only a pair of skinny jeans and a gray shirt that hangs from her right shoulder. Her hair is recklessly thrown into a ponytail which bounces from side to side as she prances around the small stage. She appears to me as a kid alone in her room dancing to her own voice; her lighthearted demeanor only cajoles the audience to beam even more.
Alice pauses for a brief moment and takes a sip from a water bottle. She peers over her shoulder at her bass guitarist and nods. He plays a screwed rift of the beginning of “Do I”, my favorite song on the album, and possibly, in the world. My drunken buzz heightens and before I can even attempt to help it, my mouth moves with hers and I am singing.
Artists like Me’Shell Ndegeocello, Les Nubians and Sadé broke ground in the R&B genre and formulated a widely anticipated new sound; but it has been years since Neo-Soul has had any novelty. There was a time where Lauryn Hill, D’Angelo and Erykah Badu dominated but since their falling out there has been plenty of room for a different climate. In recent years artists like Floetry, Musiq Soulchild and Raphael Saadiq have mixed the two sounds together to reach a broader audience; but if you are a fan of Neo-Soul, much like I am, you’d know that there was talk of this genre dying. It is people like Goapele, Estelle, Chrisette Michelle and Alice Smith who are breathing life back into this underground music scene and giving it a unique spin.
Alice Smith’s lyrics are as emotive as Billie Holiday’s and her voice is as passionate as Chaka Kahn’s. She exudes a type of bubbly style that makes her live performances more of pleasure than overwhelming. She doesn’t need theatrics or an opening act to compel her listeners to belt out “encore” at the end. We can only hope she doesn’t disappear after an LP like her counterparts, Remy Shand and Christion did. It would be much more than a shame if she did, because she is simply the purity of Neo-Soul and I look forward to hearing more of it.
- Alice Smith