The Fine Columbian

It was late July 2008 in New York City, a little overcast that day so it wasn't quite so hot, though it's odd that I remember this detail because it was inside that I saw the damnedest thing.

Danielle Howle was playing in town. I was excited because I hadn't had as much opportunity to see her since I had moved to NYC from Columbia, though I'd caught her a couple times at Lakeside Lounge, a cozy hipster joint down the street from my old apartment on Avenue B. It was the kind of place with a separate performance room, where folks could sit and actually listen. Now she was playing the Alphabet Lounge, which was found even deeper down the Lower East Side, but seemed to have a much more mainstream atmosphere. The crowd was certainly more boisterous – many of them, perhaps, discussing the absurdity of $5 domestic beers.

Near the end of her set, when the crowd was at its absolute noisiest, or so it seemed – the very height of their din – Danielle launched into her song “Jesus Won't Wait” – a modern gospel lament for cryin' out loud – a cappella. No, those italics just now aren't for the foreign origin of the term, they're for emphasis. And forgive the cliché in “launched,” but it is entirely appropriate. And so I braced myself, fearing that she had woefully misjudged the crowd. But I really should have known better. In fact, I'd seen her do it before in Columbia. The patrons fell into a rapt hush, utterly silent, and from that moment on became – well, an audience. I'll never forget it.

It's a nice thing for this music lover to live in Danielle Howle's native state, not only for the point of pride, but for the many opportunities to see her perform. For there are few artists as original and compelling as Danielle, whose singing and songwriting are instantly recognizable but yet often defy pat categorization. It is easy to apply the description "quirky" to her music, as there are plenty of idiosynracies in her style, and some of her songs are laced with the sort of peculiar humor that pervades her stage banter. Yet the depth of her lyrics, terrific singing, and great melodic gift give her music an uncommon authority. Comfortable with torch ballads and novelty songs, country romps and rock'n'roll, folk musings and punk rants. She plays live not only solo and with longtime accompanists but also with pick-up bands and ensembles of various instruments, constantly challenging herself with consistantly rewarding results, as her songs can stand for themselves in any milieu.

For more than twenty years now Danielle Howle has made a career of recording and performing original music, putting out the most important, substantial body of work among any of her South Carolina contemporaries. After Dizzy Gillespie and James Brown, she may well be this state's greatest gift to music. Apologies to Chubby Checker, of course.