AEM010 Ashraya Gupta

Ashraya Gupta is a voice out of another era — though exactly what era is up for debate. She most imme­di­ately recalls the sweet, del­i­cate voices of 60s and 70s folk singers like Vashti Bun­yan, but she sings with the wispi­ness and tight vibrato of Bil­lie Hol­i­day. At cer­tain points she even sounds even older – in her pre­cise into­na­tion, she sounds some­thing like an imag­ined pop­u­lar singer from the 19^th cen­tury.  All of which is to say that Gutpa has an incred­i­ble voice that is imme­di­ately loved by most every­one who hears it; describ­ing it is almost a waste of time. But, since one para­graph doesn’t really do her jus­tice, let’s indulge a bit.

Gupta was born in India, raised in Eng­land and Cincin­nati, and at last set­tled down in the most un-cosmopolitan of places (Long Island). She’s been play­ing for years in another band–the Kitchen Cab­i­net. That band, upbeat and care­free almost to a fault, pro­vided a nice breezy com­pli­ment to Gupta’s light alto. But here we get a real treat: Gupta on her own, explor­ing orig­i­nal ideas with just a key­board to boot. Though this bare­bones set-up could prove monot­o­nous or bor­ing in another’s hands, Gupta car­ries these two songs with her voice alone.

A-Side “Dog­wood”, built around a sim­ple and haunt­ing melody, finds Gupta in a near-whisper at points. The deep calm that she con­veys here per­fectly evokes a mood that is at once lonely and hope­ful: “Damp and dim on an empty street/morning light never looked so bleak…but on a clear day from my window/I see the pal­isades so green like the summer/ on a clear day from my window/I see the days when first you looked at me.” It’s not hard to imag­ine her writ­ing this song at her win­dow as a kind of self-medication for those lonely cold sea­sons, and with her warm tone and ethe­real arrange­ments, she wel­comes you in. You’re almost right there with her, look­ing out. I first heard these songs while walk­ing one week­end in the dim, air­less hall­ways of a local hous­ing project. Gupta’s quiet but pow­er­ful music was the per­fect anec­dote to that down­trod­den envi­ron­ment.

“Great Expec­ta­tions” expands Gupta’s sound­scape with a min­i­mal drum track. She sounds a bit wounded here, drowned out by the key­boards and per­cus­sion around her (if I do have one com­plaint, it’s that I want to hear vocals, though I sus­pect this is more an issue of lev­els than arrange­ment). When her singing at last rises above the accom­pa­ni­ment at song’s end, it’s to deliver a real kicker: “The echo cham­bers of this heart/ four empty rooms to tear apart.”

Both songs on this 7-inch are mod­est efforts that hint at some­thing even greater for Gupta. They’re lit­tle songs that pack a tight, quiet punch. Gupta’s mod­esty – in setup, in deliv­ery, in scope – suits her min­i­mal­ist aes­thetic, and puts the focus of her music where it belongs: on her voice. Where many solo records dis­ap­point, becom­ing mere shad­ows of the bands that the artist usu­ally inhab­its, these two songs are gems in their own right.

Nick Kelly

Side A — Dogwood Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (ver­sion 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Down­load the lat­est ver­sion here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Side B — Great Expectations Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (ver­sion 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Down­load the lat­est ver­sion here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

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