Spellling — real name: Chrystia “Tia” Cabral — knows how to sing in delicate whispers, but her elocution can contradict that daintiness. She likes to lean into the drama of her songs, elongating words by overemphasizing certain syllables — a playful antithesis to the articulation-isn’t-important attitude that prevails across so much of today’s pop music.
“Even better was a Friday night sugar rush from Mikal Cronin, whose rock anthems came dunked in color, charisma and electricity. From song to song to song, you could see the stiff-jointed audience slowly committing to the music with their bodies — and then with their giggles, namely whenever Cronin, who looks like a grunge John Cusack, flung his hair skyward…”
“And while his band riffed for passers-by on Red River Street, actually seeing Dwyer through the mini-mob was tricky. For a better view, a dozen faithful climbed up onto the roof of his band’s Ford E-350 tour van, parked in an adjacent alleyway. On the patio, two peroxide blondes perched atop an ATM like punk gargoyles.”
