A few weeks back I headed to the One World Coffee House in Essex to celebrate with some old friends the release of their latest CD Bienvenue. Having played with two of the four band members some twenty years ago, I was invited on stage to sing some harmonies and play a little guitar. In an awkward moment, I declined the invitation. As anticlimactic as it was, within seconds of the start of the song, I knew I had made the right decision, my friend mistakenly thinking we had performed the song back in the day. I would have been lost.
Last night at the Bull Run in Shirley, I was comfortably sipping my pint of Wachusett Ale, basking in the glow of singer/songwriter Amy Speace as she glided through one beautifully written song after the next, her voice carrying me far away from the troubles of the world. In my dreamy state, and in the middle of her newly written country waltz, I thought I heard Amy ask if anyone in the audience could whistle. Like they were offering me up for sacrifice, friends at my table, the table front and center of the intimate space, made it next to impossible for me to do anything except start whistling. Trance-like, I improvised my way through the verse, only to be encouraged by Amy to continue a second time through. And whether I imagined that she uttered the words I Love You in the middle of my solo or not, really doesn't matter. The spell was cast.
It's been a while since I felt so taken by a performer. But Amy Speace is about as real as they come: pure voice, pure beauty, and a flirtatious, country girl charm with city girl smarts that will reconfirm your faith in all things beautiful. One listen to her cover of Blondie's "Dreaming" and you'll know what I mean.
Amy's at Johnny D's on November 22nd. I can hardly wait.








