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 The gifted local singer/songwriter makes no bones about the fact that she drifted through her teens and 20s listening to and loving music but -- for reasons she can't quite explain -- not actually making any. Now she intends to make up for lost time. Renann began writing songs only three years ago and never formally played in a band prior to assembling her own. She gamely terms her guitar-playing "punk rock." Yet she writes knowing, super-melodic pop songs that are at once disarming and charming. And -- go ahead, sharpen those daggers -- she claims to write them in hours, not days. If ever there was an example of songwriter as conduit, this is it. Renann's throaty, conversational delivery makes hearing her perform sort of like having a close, tipsy girlfriend slung around your shoulder telling it like it is. Her direct lyrics feel honest because they are. Of course, everything has a subtext. The loping Sick And Tired, from her self-titled indie debut, was inspired by a video featuring an overweening Janet Jackson. Did You Ever? is for those people who don't follow their dreams. The dirgey, wicked Worship, meanwhile, is about a hard-drinking, self-absorbed local musician Renann feels isn't maxing on his potential. And, no, she won't name him for love or money, though she is amused by those who sniff around trying to figure out who the hell she's talking about.
"I know this is weird," she declares. "I have friends who'll do laundry, clean house, anything that keeps them from having to write songs. It's like homework for them. For me, it's a release." She leans in and whispers conspiratorially. "It's kind of like an orgasm for me. I just wait all day to run home, grab my guitar and get going. "If I had started doing this when I was 20, it would have been a lot different. I wouldn't have known that I wanted things to sound a certain way and I wouldn't have had these things to say. "For me, music is therapy, and hopefully I can go somewhere with it. I sometimes wish I'd started sooner, because I love this so much. But now I feel like I've finally found my little place in the world." Renann's ascent might appear dubious were it not for a few key considerations. For one, she swings it live. And she's collaborating with three established local lights -- bassist Darrell O'Dea, guitarist and producer Joao Carvalho and drummer John Obercian -- who wouldn't be there if she weren't the real deal. They're not the only musicians cheering rather than jeering. Blair Packham, former leader of the Jitters and an excellent singer/songwriter and producer in his own right, first met Renann at a house party she'd crashed with her pal musician Mia Sheard. He recalls being blown away by Renann's music, especially since he knew she'd begun less than a year before. "What's more," Packham laughs, "I was skeptical about the whole thing. It was like, 'Oh great, another chick singer.' But I was struck by how un-angst-ridden her songs were. There's plenty of angst but not of the hand-wringing variety. Her talent is pure."
Packham eventually added Wurlitzer to a song recorded for, but not included on, Renann's debut and is today a regular at her shows. After seeing her first-ever gig, painter, musician and bon vivant Kurt Swinghammer told the singer, "You've got a lot of chutzpah." "I didn't know if that meant he liked the music," Renann giggles, "but he admired the fact that I invited him to see my show." Swinghammer liked the music indeed, and ended up guesting on the album. So, the $ 64,000 questions regarding Renann are, why is she suddenly the one scrambling toward a pay phone, quarter in hand, to hum into her answering machine a melody that descended from the ether as she hoofed down the street? And how did she get so good so fast? You can ask, but don't expect the funny, self-deprecating Renann to pony up a satisfying answer. "I've always loved music, but after high school I did what a lot of people do and went the safe route," she offers over cocktails at a Riverdale eatery near her rehearsal space as bassist O'Dea looks on. Make that urges her on. For some reason, Renann, who works alongside her art-dealer father Av at his namesake Isaacs Gallery, is nervous tonight and in need of pushing. She's also determined to be understood. Two days later, she clarifies her thoughts on music, lyrics, songwriting and the like in a hand-delivered letter, even though she's a perfectly lucid interviewee. Go figure. "In high school I would occasionally be in bands," she says, "singing backup or whatever, and for some reason, I decided not to make it my life's work until my late 20s. By that point I just thought to myself, 'You know what? I love this so much, it doesn't matter if I'm good or bad. This is in me and I've got to at least try it.' "I first met the jazz drummer John Obercian at a fundraiser for a theatre company in the fall of 95. We started talking, and he mentioned how he wanted to start writing pop songs, which I thought was odd because he was so good at what he was already doing. "But John said, 'To write a good, simple pop song is one of the hardest things to do.' At that point, I hadn't written one song, but I took his number anyway. "I had met Joao at an Umbrella Sound party the year before and then met him again at another Umbrella Sound party a year later. By then I'd started writing, and I asked if he wanted to hear. "Joao gets this all the time, so it was sort of like, 'Oh god, what's this going to be like?' But I played him the songs a month or two later and he told me I had to keep doing this. That's when the project started. "I called John again, Darrell was already working at Umbrella Sound and three-quarters of the way through recording the disc, Joao and I thought, 'Why not get Darrell in the band?' And that was that." Apart from networking effectively at parties, Renann has other talents that will serve her well as she prepares to stare into the glowering red eyes of the beast that is the contemporary music industry. Though currently unsigned and largely self-managed, she admits there've been nibbles on both sides.
She's confident but not cocky. She wants to tour. Her performances with the band betray genuine chemistry among the players. Her songwriting and playing, both Renann and O'Dea insist, is getting stronger by the week. Best, Renann isn't overly precious about her art. While the conviction in her voice makes it clear that a lifetime devoted to music is probably inevitable, she's not above looking beyond herself to see the dream realized. "I like to work hard and I want to work with people who believe in us," she says. "I want longevity. There are a lot of bands coming out that are heard, and then not heard of again. I want to have a long career as a songwriter and I want to write the best songs I can possibly write. I don't even have to be the one singing them. I could write something for somebody else. "For me, the ultimate thing is writing a song that anybody could sing by a campfire. Sounds corny, I know, but that to me is a great song. When I'm hanging out with friends and the guitars come out, I pay attention to what songs get played, to those songs that we all remember. "I'm not sure the music industry is about that right now. But I guess we'll
see." ---By KIM HUGHES (http://www.now.com)
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