I absolutely adore A Girl Called Eddy. In a metaphorical world where Rachael Yamagata is my one and only, A Girl Called Eddy is the girl I met that made me wonder. I’ve been considering exactly how to describe this music in the most make-you-wanna-listen way for months. Hopefully the following does the trick.
Some music is airy and lighthearted, it puts a spring in your step, puts you in a good mood. Other music is epic and grand, it opens up like a door into the aether, befuddling your mind and leaving you in wonder. Still other music is brash and urgent, driving you, nay, requiring you to dance and move. A Girl Called Eddy’s music is none of that. This sound is velvet. It’s the warmth of a fireplace. The security of a familiar embrace. An envelope of sound that separates you from the world. You don’t listen to A Girl Called Eddy’s music, you put it on, you immerse yourself in it. The sweet melancholy drifts over you and into your soul and you forget about things that aren’t Erin Moran’s voice, things that aren’t reverb-infused and intent, things that aren’t this music.