In Transit

The wheels churn. I feel my body begin to vibrate. I hear a cry for money from the same unshaven man--who tries to sell newspapers, each night to support his family.

I hum along and nod my head to someone's iPod that is on just a little bit too loud. One of my favorites is playing. I smile.

I smell a mix of cologne, perfumes, and morning cups of Joe.

I lick my lips and pop a piece of gum in my mouth.

And I watch.

I watch the women with strollers. I watch the hipsters who swear they aren’t hipsters. I watch as people laugh. I watch as people read. I watch as people watch—people.

My favorite place in New York City, I imagine, differs from many other people’s favorite places. I love the New York City subway: the energy of the subway stations on a day where the train schedules run just right (which as rare as it is—is always a treat); the upbeat drummer on the L train platform at 14^th and 6^th Avenue; the break-dancers on the upper platform of the Union Square Station; the guitarists trying to make it; the smiling mariachi band; and of course the ride—one that’s always unique and it’s own.

I love the people—the performers—the beggars—the readers—the conductors—the families—the diversity.

I love the way the wheels rattle and seem to synchronize with the beat of my heart—and that bassy hum that accompanies.

I love the opportunities for shared moments—glances—eye contact—giggles—the chances for true, pure human interaction with complete strangers.

I love watching people—and writing stories—creating alternate worlds where I know the families and lives of each of these straphangers.

And I love the alone time.

I love sitting with myself; I love disappearing into my music or a book or my writing; I love the morning meditation—the evening energy escaping my limbs as I lean my head back; I love feeling so private yet in such a public space. I love this shot at being a fly on the wall—at taking it all in—at observing—at breathing.

I often miss my stops. It’s okay, I am the earliest person you will ever meet, on most occasions—and I know the subway like a doctor knows the veins that run through a body. This is part of my home.

The doors open—the doors shut. I don’t actually notice. I am enthralled in my thoughts—my ideas—the people that I am seeing. I feel myself breathe. I love this. I am in transit.

Suzy Sellout-- Far from your "Ordinary Sell Out"

Sell Out: Someone who betrays a cause for personal advancement.

Suzy Sellout: Exactly the opposite. A talented, passionate, singer-songwriter living in New York City; a motivated and driven performer; a star.

"I don't have any idea what I am doing, I don't have any idea where I am going, I don't have anything but my heart, and what i know in my heart to be right--I've gotta fight the good fight--and someday when I am ready--I'll be alright...I'll be alright."

-"I Have No Idea"-Suzy Sellout

It has been less than a year since I was fortunate enough to meet a young New York City singer, songwriter, and artist who refers to herself and her band as Suzy Sellout. The young woman, however, sometimes rides solo, and can be heard everywhere from small nooks and crannies, to coffee and drink houses, to spaces as big as the Empire State Building and the Duplex (March 29th).

If you've heard her at a show, you may know her as Kathrine Becker. If you haven't heard her at a show: it won't be too long until you do. Kathrine, who has just released her first single on iTunes "I Have No Idea," is making big footprints as she takes a childhood talent and hobby and goes from her living room to the stage, performing original and inspiring music.

As a native Californian, Kathrine moved to New York several years ago to continue working on her musical career. It is clear that she has taken her music to another level, even in just the short time that I have known her.

When I first met Kathrine, it was only for an hour at a Tapas bar in downtown Manhattan. It was her birthday and a friend of mine had invited me to tag along to drop by for a drink. Nearly, immediately, I could see a unique and bubbling soul full of passion, motivation, and drive toward a dream.

Soon after, I had the pleasure of sitting down in a studio with a few others and watching Kathrine record her three song CD (out now). Each of the songs play like a silhouette to anyone's ears. It was the first time that I had ever heard Kathrine perform, but I knew it wouldn't be the final time I let her music grace my eardrums. As I left the studio, I found myself singing her songs in my head over and over again--feeling inspired by her songs--skipping a long the city streets beneath the city skyline to her melodies.

It has been less than eleven months since I first listened to Kathrine in the studio that day, and it is clear that Kathrine's music has only elevated in those eleven short months. Upon arriving home from Italy, I had the opportunity to watch Kathrine perform at the Empire State Building for a half-time show at a Superbowl Party, and then again, recently, at the Waltz-Astoria in Astoria, Queens. As she sang out to a crowded basement, followed by the more recent crowded coffee house space, I was instantly reminded why I love Kathrine's music so much--why I constantly return to it on Myspace, and why I have always felt so close to it: Because it's personal, and it's real, and it has a story: Her story--yes--but a story we can all look at and say "A part of me feels that way too." Her music connects. She connects.

As she sang the song "I Have No Idea," (which you should know has been deemed the graduation song of 2011) at her more recent show , tears formed in my eyes. Listening to her song, feelings of being lost in the big city, in the big world came to light--but as she sang, it was impossible to avoid humming along with her as these lyrics flowed brilliantly from her vocal chords: "I'll be alright, I'll be alright," because no matter the struggles or turbulence this life offers, how far we are taken from home, from family, from friends, it's important to remember that we will be alright--at least in our hearts.

Kathrine concluded her recent show with new material, a song called Rat Race, in which Kathrine sings about going from desk job, to the big time: but I don't think she'll have to wait the eight months she sings about...or raps about. I think it will be very soon that we hear the lovely and wonderful Kathrine Becker taking over our sound waves.

Check out Kathrine at the Duplex this coming Tuesday, March 29th.

Also check out Kathrine's music at www.myspace.com/suzysellout

And then head over to iTunes and purchase the Suzy Sellout song on iTunes: "I Have No Idea"

"Behind this heart, there's 1,000 hearts that keep me on track"

The most intimate concerts often take place in low-lit, hole-in-the-wall bars where you can literally reach out and touch the artist from the furthest point in the bar. These are the types of concerts where you get nervous to take a photo, because you believe that the flash you set off will blind the artist as well as the entire crowd that has squished together. It’s the kind of show where you can stab a line here and there back and forth with the artist—making it feel as though you have created a friendship—a relationship—an affair, for the brief forty-five minute set.

But I’ve found something even better: The kind of show where you sit down with the artist one-on-one, where he or she plays every song that he or she has ever written, and offers you a story behind each one. This is the type of show where you don’t even take photos because you feel such a personal connection between the artist and yourself. You realize quickly that a picture wouldn’t capture the moment as well as the exchange of words, and it’s the type of show where you truly feel like the only person in the room…because…well you are.

And that’s the experience that I had recently, when I got to sit down with friend, singer, and songwriter Paul Knakk, who breaks the standard “1 in 10 songs is a hit” rule and creates an abundance of music that would have overtaken the once highly rated TRL every day. Paul Knakk is a gem.

Never have I had the opportunity to truly sit down with someone and talk about their work—their creative niche—their passion, while watching them really engage in that talent that they have. It truly is a rare and exhilarating moment to see someone smile while they are doing what they love.

Paul and I attended the same high school, but I didn’t really know him until recently. A year younger than me, we never had the same classes, and we didn’t share groups of friends. I had known who he was because of pictures he had posted from when everyone was in middle school, pictures that many people got a really great laugh about when originally posted. About a year ago, Paul and I became Facebook friends, probably because one of us saw that the other had many mutual friends and we went to the same school. Soon after, I learned that Paul was pursuing music. I checked out his videos, his notes, and took the time to listen—and I really enjoyed it.

Unable to make it to one of Paul’s shows in the last year, I formed a friendship with him always discussing the music and what he had planned next. He went on to try out for American Idol this past year where he met many contacts and formed connections that will truly help his music career. The more he talked about his music—his recent show—and the fact that he was going to get a brand new amazing guitar—the more I knew that I had to hear him play live.

So the other day I finally took the opportunity to sit in on a private concert, where Paul played every song he has ever written. Two guitars, two locations, and three and a half hours later, I now knew Paul better than I had known many people that I have been acquainted with for many years. Paul’s music gives sound to his life experiences while also allowing you to connect and feel like the words have been written just for you, like Paul wanted to tell not only his story, but yours too. At most points, during my private show, I had wished that I had a pencil and paper because his lyrics drove thoughts and inspired ideas of my own. His music—his stories—they gave me chills.

Paul’s story is an amazing one that highlights most people’s experiences in adjusting to a world filled with love, hate, and jealousy. What else is amazing about Paul and his musical endeavors? He has self-taught himself, putting together his delicate words with outstanding notes. I would have guessed Paul had been playing for years…but was surprised to learn that he has only really been writing and playing for a year and a half. As Paul and I agreed, there’s nothing that other artists have—that he doesn’t.

Not everyone has the guts to go for their dreams and not everyone has the will to fight for their passions. But after leaving Paul’s house, I realized how important it is that we recognize our talents and the talents of others. Many nights we sit around and fight to find something to do. Should we go get drinks? What about a movie? How about one night where we just sit around with a close friend and experience what makes them happiest...where we just fully experience them. The lights don’t have to be dim, the location doesn’t have to be a hole-in-the-wall, the cameras don’t have to be in hand, and the conversation doesn’t have to be simple…even if it’s a simple night. This is the best kind of concert—this is the best type of night.

For more information on Paul Knakk, I suggest friending him Paulie or by joining his Facebook Group. Once becoming friends with Paul, you can check out his beautiful lyrics in his notes and watch videos of him playing. His YouTube page is currently undergoing maintenance, but you can bet that once it is back up, the volume on his site is going to soar. And at shows…well the girls will be chasing him down, of that I can guarantee. I’m lucky to know and be friends with such a talented musician.