by Jane Lambert

VIDEO VOYAGEUR: 3 Q’s WITH REEYA BANERJEE

Reeya Banerjee’s new single “Misery of Place” isn’t just a standout moment on her upcoming album “This Place”. This is the album’s emotional thesis, wrapped up in crunchy guitars, sharp lyrics and a healthy dose of self-aware swagger.

Inspired by a haunting question that first surfaced in her teenage years – “Are you experiencing misery of place, or profound, lifelong misery of self?” — the song digs into the complex relationship between geography and identity, asking how much of our discontent is rooted in where we are. And, how much in who we are.

To bring those layered themes to life visually, Banerjee teamed up with longtime friend and visual literacy expert Kelly Kingman-Joslyn, whose work translates complex ideas into striking hand-drawn images.

The result is a music video that’s anything but traditional. It is more of a moving sketchbook full of flickering memories, half-thoughts, bold colors and scribbled commentary. It’s part animation, part stream-of-consciousness and entirely unique.

In this exclusive interview, Banerjee explores the origins of Misery of Place, the question that’s haunted her for over 20 years, and the deeply personal (and creatively rich) process of making the video with Kingman-Joslyn.

1. Tell us the story of this song, Why did you choose to visualize this song specifically in this way?

“Misery of Place” is essentially the thesis statement of my upcoming record, “This Place” — a collection of songs exploring how the places we live leave emotional imprints on us.

The song was inspired by a question that’s been rattling around in my brain since high school — over 20 years ago(!): “Are you experiencing misery of place, or profound, lifelong misery of self?”

It came from a teacher, passed along through a friend, and at the time, I was furious. I was 17, and it felt cruel and unhelpful — like, what kind of teacher says something that brutal to a kid still figuring out who they are?

And yet… the question stuck. Through every move and transition in my life, I kept coming back to it. It shaped how I think about identity, belonging, and change — how much of what we feel is about where we are, and how much is about who we are.

This song wrestles with that tension — between geography (physical and existential) and self — and it does it with crunchy guitars, narrative lyrics that nod to Bruce Springsteen’s character-driven storytelling (with a smirk), and the sonic swagger of the 90s power pop I grew up on. It felt right to kick off the album cycle with this one, because it asks the question the rest of the record is trying to answer.

2. What was the inspiration behind this new video (visuals, storyline, etc.)?

I didn’t want a traditional narrative video for this song — the song itself is full of characters, but it’s also packed with doubt, cheek, and internal monologue. So I teamed up with my dear friend Kelly Kingman-Joslyn, a visual literacy expert whose job is literally to transform spoken ideas into powerful, hand-drawn visuals. She works with keynote speakers at corporate events, sketching huge live illustrations on whiteboards or easel pads to help visual learners absorb complex ideas — and she also creates animation videos for clients like Goldman Sachs.

That combination of clarity, creativity, and abstraction made her the perfect person to bring Misery of Place to life. I wanted the video to feel like flipping through someone’s subconscious — a swirl of memory, sarcasm, self-doubt, and scribbled footnotes.

Instead of telling a linear story, the video leans into abstraction: sketchbook textures, bursts of color, and hand-written text that echo the psychological layers of the song. It’s part inner monologue, part visual essay — and it adds a new dimension to the song’s central question.

3. What was the process of making the video?

The video was a true collaboration, but also an act of deep trust. I gave Kelly the track and a brain dump of what the song meant to me — a mix of stories, reflections, and the emotional weight behind the lyrics. Then I stepped back.

I trusted her completely to take all of that and filter it through her own artistic lens. Her ability to translate words and feeling into image is extraordinary, and I knew the best thing I could do was give her the space to do what she does best.

There was also something quietly full-circle about working with Kelly. She’s married to one of my closest friends — we met freshman year of college, and after graduation, we were roommates for nearly a decade. He moved out when he married her! So asking Kelly to make this video kind of felt like calling on family. That trust wasn’t just creative — it was personal.

Kelly is based in Beacon, NY — a small city in the Hudson Valley with an enormous artist community. It’s a place filled with visual artists, filmmakers, photographers, writers, and musicians, many of whom I’ve crossed paths with over the years. I lived there for a long time, and it was one of the most creatively rich chapters of my life. So in a way, this video wasn’t just a collaboration between two artists — it was a product of a larger creative ecosystem I was once part of.

A community-rooted project in every sense. We didn’t storyboard it traditionally. Instead, Kelly treated it like a live sketchbook in motion, responding to the song’s tone and energy in real time. What she created was a moving mural — quirky, emotional, and raw — that mirrors the rhythm and spirit of the song itself.

Keep up to date with Reeya Banerjee on her Website.

04.22.25

by Jane Lambert

VIDEO VOYAGEUR: 3 Q’s WITH KRISTY CHMURA

In a powerful tribute to Earth Day, singer, harpist and songwriter Kristy Chmura releases a re-imagined version of her song “Wake Up”. This is a heartfelt environmental anthem that brings together music, activism and visual storytelling.

Originally released on her 2018 debut solo album “Stained…Glass Heart”, the song now returns with a fresh cinematic arrangement and a compelling music video that shines a spotlight on the urgency of protecting our planet.

Deeply rooted in her love for nature and her decade-long commitment as a volunteer with her town’s Shade Tree Commission, Kristy’s passion for trees, forests and wildlife pulses through every frame of this video.

Collaborating with world-class musicians Christian Eigner and Niko Stoessl, along with longtime creative partner Damien Musto, Kristy brings new life to “Wake Up” through haunting melodies, stunning visuals and a message that resonates deeply in today’s climate.

In this interview, Kristy shares the story behind the song, the inspiration for the video and the creative process that brought this urgent and moving project to life:

1.Tell us the story of this song, why did you choose to visualize this song specifically in this way?

The seed for my song “Wake Up” was planted a while ago. I released my original version of “Wake Up” with my longtime creative partner, Damien Musto back in 2018 on my debut solo album, “Stained…Glass Heart”.

I’ve always felt a deep connection to nature, a sense of belonging that resonates in my soul especially whenever I’m surrounded by trees, and I was becoming increasingly worried and distressed by what I would see in the media: the destruction and attacks on our environment, and how greed and thoughtlessness towards the planet hurts us all.

All these things overwhelmed me – the images of deforestation, the oil spills, the sheer disregard for our planet, even seeing things in my own community like clear cutting properties for new construction – I reached a point where the the inner activist in me became ignited. It wasn’t just about the planet; it was a personal ache, a sense of loss. I had to do something, I couldn’t stand by any longer, so I used what I have: my voice.”

“Wake Up” is a call to action to myself and to anyone, reminding us we need to look within ourselves and become more conscious of how our actions affect one another. We’re all part of a giant ecosystem. If we each do something, no matter how big or small, that contributes to solutions and creating health and balance for our environment – that’s a step in the right direction, and we need to keep going in that direction one step at a time. Sometimes that first step is just becoming more self-aware.

This newly reimagined version of “Wake Up” came to be because one summer, the smoke from the Canadian forest fires drifted south, casting a pall over New Jersey. The air hung heavy, and the poor air quality made it challenging to breathe. The sun was a hazy orange disk in the sky, and you could smell the wood burning from hundreds of miles away. Experiencing that broke my heart, thinking of the acres of trees and the extreme impact on the entire ecosystem.

This reignited the pull inside me to want to do something to help, so I turned to my music once again. I reached out to my team of music collaborators—Christian Eigner, Niko Stoessl, and Damien Musto—and told them I had this idea to rearrange my original version of “Wake Up” into something new and bigger, because I felt the song had an important message that needed to be heard. They were all on board, and there was an electric energy between us as we created this more pop/alternative style of “Wake Up”.

I decided to visualize this song in this specific way because I wanted to make the video more about delivering the message and bringing this important global issue about the health of our planet to the spotlight.

2. What was the inspiration behind this new video (visuals, storyline, etc.)?

The inspiration behind this new video came from many things – I like watching documentaries about the environment on Pattrn TV, and I’ve always been incredibly moved by Michael Jackson’s video for “Earth Song.” However, I had to narrow it down and keep my budget in mind, so I chose a source of inspiration from a past experience – a concert I had attended, which was the Live Earth concert organized by Al Gore when he released his documentary, “The Inconvenient Truth.”

That concert was so inspiring, with such an important message raising awareness about climate change, that it has always stuck with me. Melissa Etheridge did a music video for her song that she created for the film, “I Need to Wake Up,” and so I gathered inspiration to create my own version of what they created back then. I decided to try to focus on one climate issue that I feel passionate about, which is our forests, and try to highlight how they are such an important ecosystem that we need for maintaining the health of our planet.

3. What was the process of making the video?

Creating the video was a long process. This video is the culmination of many ideas. It was challenging to create something with such an important message, as there are many different environmental issues warranting attention, so I needed to narrow it down to just one. I didn’t want to be the focus of this video; instead, I wanted the message of the song to be in the spotlight. So I worked with my video team at Sunbeam Productions LLC, and we brainstormed many ideas.

I had a strong vision about gathering many different environmental images and text with different facts to create a story in the form of a mini-documentary, but I still wanted to have shots of me singing interwoven within those images. I researched the text that appears in the video from many different sources, like the Arbor Day Foundation and the Audubon Society, etc. I then put together the text story within the visual story of the images I gathered.

I came up with the idea of projecting all these images onto a large backdrop. We then scouted a location with a cyclorama wall and shot the singing scenes there, and it all worked out perfectly. I have Julia Schnarr and her team at Sunbeam Productions LLC to thank for putting all the pieces of my vision together into this video.

Keep up to date with Kristy Chmura on her Website

04.17.25

by Jane Lambert

Stephen Jaymes Gets Existential (and a Little Ironic) on “Waiting for the Drugs to Kick In”

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Stephen Jaymes, the folk punk poet, returns with a sly and soul searching song for the frayed nerves of 2025.

There is a special kind of exhaustion that hits when outrage becomes the national pastime. On new release “Waiting for the Drugs to Kick In”, Stephen Jaymes captures that feeling with an almost uncomfortable accuracy and is able to make it sound catchy too!

This latest single from Jaymes’s upcoming album “King Jaymes” finds him in rare form: drowsy-eyed, world weary but lucid as ever. Over a shuffling rhythm that evokes a late night stumble through emotional wreckage, Jaymes meditates on trauma, conflict and the desperate search for relief.

Whether it’s heartbreak, politics or the growing absurdity of modern life, the title isn’t really about narcotics at all. It is about the long aching pause before healing can begin. “Whatever it takes,” the song seems to shrug: “Whatever gets you through.”

The track walks a tightrope between bar room blues and surreal lounge punk. Bottles clink in the background like percussion. The chords are loose but deliberate also, with an unhurried groove. Jaymes’s voice, part crooner part confessor, floats just behind the beat as if he is narrating from the bottom of a half remembered dream. It is theatrical, but not posturing. You can believe every word he says.

The lyrics for “Waiting for the Drugs to Kick In” deliver a kind of poetic clarity that is becoming of Jaymes’s signature sound. He doesn’t give you slogans, he give symbols. Voodoo dolls, needle pricks. Arguments that circle the drain. In one breath, he is talking about a romantic burnout; in the next, he is hinting at a bigger cultural fatigue.

This is the kind of song that can make you laugh, and then maybe tear you up a little because you have felt it too.

If Baby Can’t Be Helped was Jaymes diagnosing our collective Baby Brain Syndrome, this new single is him whispering from the recovery room.

For fans of Leonard Cohen’s sardonic honesty, Beck’s melancholy, or even Zappa’s smirking surrealism, “Waiting for the Drugs to Kick In” is a necessary stop. It doesn’t promise easy answers, but it does something which is more powerful. It sits with you in the chaos, cracks a half smile and asks “Should we put on another record while we wait?”

Listen to “Waiting for the Drugs to Kick In” on Spotify.

Keep up with everything Stephen Jaymes on his Website.

04.10.25

by Jane Lambert

Ben Neill Channels Sheldrake’s Radical Science into a Living, Breathing Soundscape on “Morphic Resonance”

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Ben Neill’s “Morphic Resonance” is not just a piece of music, but is a philosophical gesture rendered in sound.

Released as a dual version single and marking the final chapter of his forthcoming album “Amalgam Sphere”, the work is deeply informed by the theories of Rupert Sheldrake, the British biologist whose controversial concept of morphic resonance proposes that memory and learning are not confined to the brain but embedded in nature itself.

That Neill chooses to explore this idea not in a lecture hall, but in a dense, immersive soundscape says a great deal about his own creative philosophy. And, the growing porousness between art, science and technology.

Listen in here:

Neill, who is perhaps best known as the inventor of the Mutantrumpet, a fantastic shape-shifting hybrid electro-acoustic instrument, has built a decades-long career on this kind of boundary-blurring.

Across thirteen albums released on labels like Astralwerks, Six Degrees and Universal’s Verve imprint, Neill’s work has embraced minimalism, ambient electronica, interactive art and jazz, often in the same breath. But Morphic Resonance feels like something new. It is more of a culmination, a synthesis and a provocation.

Central to the track’s construction is Sheldrake’s voice, which Neill doesn’t just sample but transforms into a kind of metaphysical presence. It is at once narrator, texture and spirit guide. Fragments of Sheldrake’s speech drift in and out of the mix, sometimes intelligible, often distorted beyond recognition, suggesting that memory is not a fixed archive but is a vaporous, shape shifting force. The haunt the piece like neural echoes or half remembered dreams.

The sound world that Neill creates around this voice is astonishing in its detail. The original version of the track opens with a delictae interplay of processed trumpet tones and low, glowing drones. Gradually, the sound field thickens, enriched with granulr textures, harmonic overtones, and subtle rhythmic pulses. Rather than moving in a linear arc, the track seems to unfold in spirals and circles back in on itself, expanding and contracting like a breathing organism.

This is music that does not simply develop, but it evolves.

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Much of this fluidity comes from the way Neill engages with the Mutantrumpet. With its multiple bells, integrated electronics and gestural control system, it allows for real-time sampling and transformation. The instrument itself is sensitive, reactive and alive. Neill’s use of it here is not virtuosic in the traditional sense; instead, he plays with restraint, allowing the textures and resonances to accumulate organically. The trumpet doesn’t lead so much as it listens.

In a particularly elegant twist, Neill maps the letters in the title “Morphic Resonance” to musical pitches, creating the harmonic and melodic material from linguistic structure itself.

It’s a subtle but profound move, echoing Sheldrake’s ideas about the resonance of forms and habits. Language becomes sound. Sound becomes structure. Structure becomes memory. It’s a recursive loop, and Neill navigates it with remarkable sensitivity.

The “Bifurcated Mix” is the second version included in the release, fracturing this dreamlike world with glitchy percussive interventions and sharper electronic edges. If the original mix is memory as mist or sediment, the Bifurcated version is memory under pressure. The introduction of rhythm here turns it into a shifting terrain of broken patterns and flickering signals. It’s less meditative, and more hallucinatory.

This dual presentation is not just a clever production choice—it reflects the underlying philosophy of the piece. For Sheldrake, morphic resonance is about pattern transmission through time: the idea that habits of nature are inherited non-genetically, through fields of information. Neill’s music channels this idea not by describing it, but by embodying it. Patterns are set and then mutated, phrases recur in altered forms, motifs dissolve and are reborn.

“Morphic Resonance” also acts as a sound companion to Neill’s recent book “Diffusing Music: Trajectories of Sonic Democratization”, in which he considers how emerging technologies from AI to algorithmic composition tools, are changing not just how music is participatory, fluid and radically open ended. Neill’s interest lies not in fixed compositions but in adaptive systems where the boundaries between composer, performer and listener begin to blur.

In this light “Morphic Resonance” asks: what if music isn’t just a product of human creativity, but part of a larger ecological and temporal process? What if memory isn’t stored, but acted out? And what if every performance, every iteration is a ghost of what came before, re-shaped by what is happening now?

One gets the feeling that Amalgam Sphere, when fully released, will only deepen these themes. If Morphic Resonance is the seed, the coming work may very well be the bloom – alive, unpredictable and carrying within it the memory of every note that came before.

Find out more about Ben Neill on his Website

Stream music on Spotify , Apple Music and YouTube

04.01.25

by Jane Lambert

Earl Patrick Re-imagines “Billie Jean” as a Ghostly Folk Confession

Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” is one of the most iconic songs of all time. Its hypnotic groove, pulsing bassline and undeniable energy helped define a generation.

But in Earl Patrick’s hands, the song is reborn as something entirely different: a stark, intimate folk ballad filled with quiet regret and eerie beauty.

Patrick strips away the familiar pop sheen and reveals “Billie Jean” for what it has always been at its core – a tragic story of deception, betrayal, guilt and the weight of consequence. Accompanied only by his nimble acoustic guitar, Patrick’s vocals carry the song with a hushed intensity, letting each lyric linger like a ghost from the past.

“Be careful who you love, be careful what you do, because a lie becomes the truth” no longer feels like a warning. It feels like a lesson learned too late.

Earl says about the song:

“When Thriller came out in 1983, I was seven and Michael Jackson was everywhere. I think that was probably one of the first times I saw someone have pop music success at that level. The second single, Billie Jean, is the one I remember falling in love with. As a kid, I really didn’t connect with the lyrics. It was just the music and the groove. As I got older and would hear the song again from time to time, I think I just connected with the sadness of the lyric which was overshadowed by the production, by the buoyancy and groove of the tune.

To me, the lyrics go deeper than the kind of surface level story. There’s a certain pathos to lines like “my mother always told me be careful who you love, be careful what you say because a lie becomes the truth” and “she came and stood right by me and the smell of her perfume, it happened way too soon….” I started messing with it and trying to find a way to really strip it back. Like what would it sound like if someone had written it on a single guitar without the dancing or the groove in mind. I feel like I found a certain blues quality when it’s all said and done, which makes sense – ultimately, I think it’s a song about longing on several different levels.”

The result is haunting. His fingerpicking gives the melody an almost blues-like quality, transforming the song into something weary and deeply personal.

Recorded in the quiet of his family home after his children had gone to sleep, Patrick’s version of “Billie Jean” carries an almost spectral presence. It’s the sound of someone sitting alone with their memories, reckoning with the past in the stillness of night.

As the lead single from his upcoming album “Smooth Runs The Water” this rendition sets the tone for what’s to come – a collection of re-imagined classics, stripped back to their barest elements and re-shaped through Patrick’s singular artistic lens. His “Billie Jean” is proof that even the most familiar songs can hold hidden depths, waiting for the right artist to uncover them.

“Billie Jean” is available now on all streaming platforms.

Follow Earl Patrick on his Website for updates on Smooth Runs The Water.

03.31.25

by Jane Lambert

Amanda Abizaid’s “Hold On My Heart (Bilingual Remix)” – a Transcendent Journey Through Love and Sound

Amanda Abizaid has always been an artist unbound by borders, whether cultural, linguistic or musical.

Her latest release “Hold On My Heart (Bilingual Remix)” has taken on many forms, evolving across languages and styles. Originally written as a pop folk ballad in English through Sundown Sessions in Los Angeles, the song which was co-written with Lindsay Gillis, has since blossomed into a bilingual marvel.

Winning Best Folk and World Music Song awards from the Indie Music Channel, this track further cemented Abizaid’s place as a global artist. Now, with a fresh remix produced by Dave D’Addario, “Hold On My Heart (Blilingual Remix)” shows Abizaid’s talent for fusing world music with neo-soul and cinematic electronica into a mesmerizing, emotionally charged experience.

With lyrics that seamlessly transition between English and Arabic, this song re-invents the wheel of remixes and transforms it into a re-awakening of passion and purpose.

Listen in here:

https://amandaabizaid.bandcamp.com/album/hold-on-my-heart-bilingual-remix

Abizaid’s ethereal vocals pull you into a dreamy landscape where Middle Eastern melodies intertwine with lush electronic beats.

Producer Dave D’Addario expertly amplifies the song’s intensity, layering hypnotic rhythms with a pulsing and danceable energy that builds towards a climactic release. This is certainly a song that lingers with the listener long after listening with its gorgeous fusion of nostalgia and modernity.

Abizaid, a Lebanese-American singer-songwriter, is no stranger to crafting music that resonates across cultures. Best known for her Emmy-winning theme song A Place in Time from The 4400, she has collaborated with legends like Stephen Stills and performed alongside Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter. Her music, which is often a vehicle for storytelling and activism, has found its way into film, television as well as and international humanitarian efforts, where she has used her platform to promote peace and cross-cultural understanding.

“My multicultural upbringing has enabled me to adapt to different types of people. I’ve always had different kinds of friends, inviting them all to my shows and discussions which I love because it creates an international fanbase and audience allowing for a diverse dialog.”

“My hope is to open our minds to accepting our differences by having positive experiences together and to have my fans have an opportunity to experience my native Country Lebanon in a different light than what they might typically hear on the News. After all, don’t we all want to be happy and enjoy the time we have?”

With “Hold On My Heart (Bilingual Remix)”, Abizaid takes another step in that mission, using music as a universal language. This remix breathes new life into an already memorable song, and offers a fresh take where heartbeats of different worlds come together in harmony.

Listen to “Hold On My Heart (Bilingual Remix)” and let it take you somewhere new.

Find out more about Amanda Abizaid and her music on her Website