Plugola: Susan Tedeschi

Each new year around February, I get a little seasonal affect -- at least that's what I think it is. I get moody, irritable, introspective, strange. I don't want to go to work, I'm unmotivated, I eat too much. It's hell.

This year, with Lent nearing the halfway mark and not a scrap of meat to be had, I'm a little more focused, but still jittery in my skin. It's one of those emotional sensations akin to being vaguely hungry, strangely tired, out of sorts a bit with a little nausea and bleary vision. You can't annunciate why things are awry and you feel frustrated with yourself, floating in ambiguity.

But, with my 5 am TaeBo session out of the way and my breakfast of coffee, grapes and natural peanut butter under my belt, I walked to the car, plugged in my new (and well worn) iPod and started off to work, repeating my mantra over and over, silently: I will have a good day. I will have fun. I will be productive. I will be peaceful.

I'm down to the S's in my iPod playlist and have landed on Susan Tedeschi. I've heard her stuff before, though I haven't spent intense time with it. Her smoky, gut-wrenching voice is a blend of Bonnie Raitt, Shelby Lynne, and Patty Griffin. It lifts the curtains from the morning and pulls my awareness to the fore. Angel From Montgomery and Just Won't Burn are songs I've heard before and intensely enjoyed. Both are excellent and I relished them as I made my half hour commute. Then the last song on the album, Friar's Point, cued up.

Good. God.

And I mean that.

She's singing and I'm tearing off hallelujahs in my head. No, more than that. Good-God-Almighty-Lord-in-Heaven-Thank You JESUSSSS!

HELLO! I'm awake now! And if I couldn't figure out what was missing before, I know it now. And while I can't quite name it, still I know there is someone else who has felt it. Not in the words she sings, but in something unspoken, unbound by any language, that only Blues can emote.

Get this album. No, I'm serious. GO. Get it now.

HIGHLY recommended.