Crea - August 2004
 Music, in its best form, should always tell a story. From a faultless
piano tinkle to the stellar guitar riff - to a perfectly held note -
instrumentation and vocal perfection are a natural combination for the
best storytelling. Many musicians attempt to find that totality; a
select few make it happen.
Aezra recording artist Crea is clearly one of the chosen ones. With a
throaty-yet-feminine delivery that brings clarity and drama to every
day themes, this accomplished singer-songwriter and musician from
Birmingham, Alabama is both the future of homegrown rhythm-and-blues
and a direct descendant of the storied past of the art form.
Crea's story begins, like so many in the history of R&B music, in the
deep south. Born LeCresia Holbdy, she was weaned on music from the very
beginning. Starting with the violin, she felt herself more drawn to the
gutsy, primal sounds of the guitar. "It just felt comfortable," says
Crea, "Like a good pair of shoes." Primarily self-taught, she spent her
childhood composing complete songs and performing for her captive
audience - her toy collection.
When she wasn't performing mini-concerts, she was studying her
parents' music collection. "I didn't listen to the pop idols that were
out at the time," she recalls. "I was digging through my mom's old
record crates. I would find Marvin Gaye, Quincy Jones and Stevie
Wonder. I was into music like Manhattan Transfer, Michael Franks and
Steely Dan."
Inspired by artists like Gil Scott-Herron and India Arie, Crea set off
to fulfill her mission. She started early: by 16, she'd joined her
first band. Solo turns in studio sessions helped her find her singular
voice. "I had to figure out my sound early on," she says. "I never had
a 'church voice,' my vocals come from my emotions. It's not something I
can turn on and off. Either I'm feeling it or I'm not."
"Being in the studio also helped me grow and find my niche as a
writer," she continues. "My songs are my inner voice put to melody -
the words I want to say, in a way I want to say them, in the only way I
can be heard and understood."
"Like most teenagers I went through a lot during those years," she
explains. "There was a point that I had those end-it-all thoughts and
instead of thinking about that, I picked up my guitar. Eventually,
music saved her life. And she knew she would be a performer. "My guitar
became my therapy and songwriting my diary. From then on, creating
music has been very therapeutic for me. And hopefully my music is
therapeutic for the listener."
Her efforts did not go unnoticed. Crea began singing live background
on international tours. "I walked the balance beam - writing and
performing," says Crea. While collaboration is always good for
establishing an artists' sound, eventually, their own story must be
told.
Crea accomplishes exactly that, with equal parts "soul" and "creation"
on her self-composed debut album, MYSTORY. The aptly titled disc does
what good music is designed to do - bring the listener into a new
world, one that is intimately familiar yet wholly distinct. MYSTORY is
a whirlwind trip through the psyche of life experiences. Although most
of the material rings autobiographical, Crea writes for everyone - not
just herself. "I think about women and even men who have gone through
similar experiences to let them know they're not alone. It's like
saying, I know this is what you think about and probably what you felt.
If you haven't had the nerve to say it to that person, let me say it
for you."
Crea's conversation begins with finger snaps and tight guitar chords
on "Intro," conjuring up the husky moans of Me’Shell NdegeOcello and
layering them over the sultry sophistication of Toni Braxton. "Can you
stay a while," she asks the listener in a whisper. With the intricate
instrumentation, the question is obviously rhetorical.
On "Not The Words," the mournful and gracefully painful lyrics are a
perfect marriage to the elegant instrumentation. This diatribe on the
actions (and in-actions) of a less-than-perfect mate is cinematic in
their delivery. The song effortlessly paints a clear picture of the
tension. "Don't walk away when I'm talking cause I ain't finished
yet/Just sit yourself down and hear me out." In Crea's hands, what
could be a typical kiss-off is instantly something more - a complicated
composition that shows all sides to a difficult story.
Every R&B singer worth their weight in love songs attempts a
he-said/she-said tale as part of their repertoire but Crea takes the
theme to a new extreme. On "Changes," she portrays the "other woman."
With a pulsating bass line as a backdrop, she urges the wronged woman
to address her hatred to the right person: her unfaithful man.
In what could be a prelude to "Changes," Crea opens up about a
relationship that she wants to explore further. On "Shouldn't Bring It
Up," she explains why things should remain the same but why her heart
is telling her a whole different story. In the midst of a climatic
bridge, she offers a vocal breakdown that is powerful and emotional.
Wondering where you stand in someone's life is a scary thing to
contemplate. Crea brings those feelings to light in a spectacular way.
"Call Her," one of the highlights on MYSTORY deals with a woman who
needs to be supportive of a friend trapped in an abusive and unhealthy
relationship that she needs to escape. It's a refreshing take on a
familiar tale. Whether you have been that woman who needs the help - or
been the pal who needs to rally around your friend - the story is
instantly recognizable. Crea presents an intense, powerful sentiment
about domestic violence, complete with a lovely acoustic guitar that
takes center stage on the bridge, lending an ethereal sound to the
song.
One of Crea's favorite compositions is the album's first single, "U
Lied." It sums up just how deep love can be and how painful it can be
when it ends. The song, a robust combo of sublime production and
intricate vocal delivery, is indicative of all that Crea desires her
music to be. "I want my listeners to know they are not alone," she
says. "These are love stories. We all have good ones and not-so-good
ones to tell. But there is a spin. Love isn't bad. There's always hope
on the other side." |
