With the addition of Pearson and Bills, Sarina simoom is now capable of laying down the solid, yet free-flowing, rhythmic foundation that is necessary for the ethereal quality of its music. The players essentially act as spotters for Herbst's vocal highwire act, when her elastic range and operatic tendencies go from girlish and giddy to occasionally breathy and almost baritone. Her dramatic vocal swooning has led some to wonder if sheep aren't the only things being cloned these days: Since the band started playing locally with a June show at the Lion's Lair in 1998, listeners have invariably made comparisons between Sarina's singer and Kate Bush. Herbst doesn't attempt to deny that she is a fan: "I love what she does. She was an influence, but I actually started listening to her more after people told me that I sound like her. I have a deep respect for her because she was so creative, especially for her time."
While Herbst's voice can possess a sweet lullaby-like quality, the almost possessed nature of her onstage delivery could conceivably cause Junior to experience a few tosses and turns, if not nightmares. The music of Sarina simoom, though soothing at times, is largely inspired by a few of the age-old muses -- despair, suffering, reckoning, redemption. Yet the themes of pain are usually tempered with a sober acceptance. "Love of Grieving," a song on the band's new CD Thread Bone Bare, for example, was inspired by the famous Sufi poet Rumi, a teacher who spoke only in poetry as people flocked to him. He told a story of the role pain plays in one's life. "I think for so much of my life I would think 'Why do I feel all this pain?' I don't know where it comes from," says Herbst. "Now I think I have more of an idea. It was a necessary pain. The song is about tragedy bringing you insight."
The dark side of simoom: (from top) Todd Bills, Jenna Herbst, Brian Balestrieri and Chris Pearson.
Details
9 p.m. Thursday, November 9, $5
303-322-2308
Bluebird Theater, 3317 East Colfax
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Thread Bone Bare is a stark, melancholy work: mood music with a celestial quality. Its minimalist hooks quickly burrow their way into the subconscious. The tunes, while dedicated to the melody, have a cyclical flow that's a fitting vehicle for Herbst and Balestrieri's lyrical stream of consciousness. Bills and Pearson, meanwhile, keep the foundation fluid and give the disc its continuously cohesive feel.
Part of what makes Sarina simoom so fascinating to watch and listen to is the sense that you are witnessing an artist coming to terms with her talent. "I don't feel attached to my music as my music in particular. It's not mine. I didn't make it. It happened," Herbst says. "I've wanted to give up music so many times, just feeling that it wasn't enough of a contribution. Sometimes I want to be a Buddhist nun. It's only people coming to me and saying 'This makes me feel good' that makes me keep doing it. It's not that music is meaningless, it's just that it can't be judged as being more meaningful than anything else. So that's what Buddhism is to me. What punk rock wanted to be -- freedom from judgment."
