“She’ll Use The Music”

c. 2008 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(7-08)



Note to Readers: I first discovered U.K. songstress Sazi Riot via the Internet. Her sound and style were immediately irresistible – a rockin’ blend of Joan Jett and Chrissie Hynde mixed with the appeal and earnestness of a Medieval balladeer. Yet as I studied her work, my initial perceptions grew with understanding. While Sazi is a fan of edgy Rock music, her background comes from experience as a Christian performer. Instead of composing empty sonnets for cash, her voice speaks powerfully about positive living, self-worth, and love.

Sazi was impressed that a fellow from the heartland of America would be so touched by her work. Cheerfully, she sent a copy of her CD with an autographed photo to my address in Chardon. What follows is a review I wrote in response to her gift:

Sazi Riot: A Match-strike Against the Darkness

The darkness.

No one seems certain of when it began. But nearly everyone has an opinion. A foundation of logic, however slippery in nature… some intellectual nudge toward comprehension of a sort. Pure insight… or delusion? Both seem possible. One explanation is no better than another. Yet the happening is clear.

The light dimmed somewhere between Elvis and Britney Spears.

One school of thought postulates that cultural darkness in the West began when Buddy Holly met the dirt of an Iowa cornfield with rude effect. Or through the domino-falls when John F. Kennedy, Dr. Martin Luther King, and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated. Maybe, after The Beatles self-destructed at the end of a whirlwind tour through the 1960’s. Perhaps… even as a result of the failed conflict in Vietnam. Or the OPEC oil embargo. Causes are not difficult to find.

Some reckon MTV was the culprit, hand-in-lacy glove with Michael Jackson and Madonna. Or that commercialistic excess was responsible, personified by cliched Heavy Metal acts, Urban Cowboys, and the faux street-hype of wannabe Gangsta Rappers.

Technology is a suspect as well, with the iPod overwhelming every previous paradigm in a new age where vinyl records, cassette tapes, and compact discs have careened uselessly into oblivion.

For this writer, one truism remains clear. Rock ‘n’ Roll has stumbled on the path toward eternity.

A new roster of young, post-modern performers have disappeared with the sweeping hands of chronological motion. They joined the throng of Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Brian Jones, Marvin Gaye, and Janis Joplin. Rockers, rebels, and raconteurs they were. Too fast to live; too young to die.

But then… there was a murmur from the tomb.

In their stead came the next generation – a tribe empowered by Internet openness, and able to move without succor from corporate entertainment moguls. Artists once again directed by a single-minded passion for music, in the forgotten tradition of wandering troubadours.

A match-strike against the darkness… like Sazi Riot.

“There’s a drunk / there’s a habit / there’s some drugs / there’s the addict / but there’s a light…”

Sazi first caught my notice on the Yahoo! 360 network. Her page made me pause with curiosity, amid the clutter of personal journals, and blog-speak. Hungering for more, I discovered that she was also an avid participant on MySpace. There, in the growing community of cutting-edge composers, she had posted some of her original recordings. I clicked on a track, and became spellbound by her gentle fury:

“Sazi Riot / won’t be quiet / she’s got something to say / about your soul today / a punk rock princess / she has an interest / in letting people know / about the ‘end show’ / she’ll use the music / hey, hey, hey!”

I marveled at her persona. She carried the high-energy spark of a poetic, U.K. femme-on-the-loose, yet delivered her message with vocal poise reminiscent of an Old World siren. As a guitar-slinger, she seemed skillfully able to rekindle the energy once wielded by axemen like Mick Jones and Billy Zoom. Her breath, and faith, were strong:

“We are born into this life / a living trial where pain is rife / it gives us wrongs and gives us rights / to choose which side we want to fight / it penetrates our earthly minds / to hate and to make us feel dark inside…We gotta breakthrough / but sins that bind us begin to blind us / gotta breakthrough / we’ll get even and make that push / so breakthrough / don’t let those iron bars defeat us.”

We began to converse, through e-messages sent speedily across the Atlantic Ocean, via cyberspace. Sazi spoke of drawing on the support of friends and family to fashion the ‘Riot’ sound. Keith Harrop, her father, contributed harmonica work and inspiration. Others provided graphics for her Internet page. Soon, I learned that she not only had talent as a writer and performer, but additionally as a visual artist. Her colorful drawings depicted scenes around Great Britain and Europe with an impressionistic flair.

Sazi’s match-strike had paled a spot in the darkness. Daylight peeked above the horizon with a playful wink… and I became a believer.

Months passed between us, with other work come and gone in the interim. I listened, and pondered. She found a home on Byte Me Radio. Her tunes were available on Raw Rip. Yet generationally-inherited habits made me want a ‘hard’ copy of Sazi’s work. An album, or CD. Something tangible. Organized. Defined. A treasure I could collect… an artifact for future eyes and ears to behold. Finally, I wondered out loud. And in response, this songstress did indeed ‘use the music’ – to send a disc worthy of note in any listening library.

It was a revelation. I spun the platter again and again… while enjoying a day in the home office. Then, on the road to town, where I visited a local bookstore. And in the evening, with coffee and a blackberry dessert. My soundtrack for the day continued to echo, long after sundown:

“I see you there with a smile on your face / you say you’re open minded, but you’re a disgrace / you’re a cynic and an unbeliever / you’re the one they call a deceiver / all I can say is / you’re fooling only you.”

The darkness, I decided at last, was an illusion. A crafty deception used to dishearten those bearing candles. Though potent, it was not immune to the force of positive emotions:

“He’ll try to stop me doing good all over town / took the wind, the seeds of compassion he’s blown / with all the darkness there’s a weakness / in our souls and eyes / but you’ll never get me no / you’ll never get me down.”

Sazi’s match-strike had been a joyful beginning. It pierced the black void with a sharp steel of goodness. Now, only one task lay ahead… to build on that tuneful foundation.

And to believe.

Postscript: This writing exercise proved once more that even a small town newspaper can reach out to readers who are far from home. Sazi’s work can be heard by visiting www.rawrip.com, or her page at: www.myspace.com/saziriot.

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