The band, not the brunch: Champagne Sunday.
One aspect of the Artist Home mission is the discovery of new music. While there are a plethora of bands and artists out in the Emerald City ether that the casual music fan has heard of – from Macklemore to Thunderpussy to The True Loves – there are many talented performers a lot of us haven’t gotten to know. And so here at Artist Home, an organization that continually has its searchlight out for the next great players, we wanted to showcase four local artists that you may not have heard of, but that we’re in awe of. We think you should also know them. So, without further ado, we present to you Four Artists To Know, featuring Drew Martin, Emily McVicker, Champagne Sunday and Champagne Honeybee.
Drew Martin: If you had to guess, you’d probably say Drew Martin floats in off the wind. A cloud of mist collecting, he just appears somehow, 12-string in hand, slide on his left ring finger. And his music, like the breeze, finds you. The musician curls with Mother Nature and sips from the river still running. He’s an old-souled guide and a playful spirit and his song, “River Still Runs,” will live with you forever.
Emily McVicker: Beyond a musician, she is a magician. Give her a looper pedal and some contraptions from beneath your kitchen sink and Emily McVicker could compose a symphony that would whisk you away or put your feet on the ground, depending on what you needed. She’s a jukebox and versatile like a Swiss Army Knife, with tools ranging from Lorde’s swells to Amy Winehouse’s bops to Stevie Wonder’s grip.
Champagne Sunday: You know how, when you pour a glass of bubbly and, as the drink rises in the glass there’s the foam bubbling even faster, threatening to overflow the glass and simultaneously make a mess while also signifying you don’t give a fuck and this shit is a celebration tonight? That’s the soul of the husband and wife duo, Champagne Sunday, too. Part cozy, newspaper-reading weekend-morning duo and part burlesque-let’s-make-it-a-sloshy-night band, they wow.
Champagne Honeybee: Picture this: Etta, Amy or Billie crooning underneath a cherry tree as the light, lifting strings of a ukulele sing betwixt. Their powerful voices soaring over the simplicity. Well, Emerald City musician Rani Weatherby has taken up the challenge and excelled. With beautiful, melancholy remorse, she explains her broken heart while pushing on into the bleak wilderness of the fissure, all for our lucky ears, and all with the understated power of the small, delicate instrument by her side.
