Angie Stevens

Winter seems to stir singer-songwriters like Angie Stevens

Those South Dakota winters are as brutal as you can imagine, and Angie Stevens swears it's more than just a cliche - there's little else to do but write music.

"You can hang out at your house, go party or write music. And after a while, partying grows old," Stevens says.

Those cold Midwestern winters have given us songwriters like Bob Dylan, Paul Westerberg, Shawn Colvin and plenty more.

Cliches, however, have no place in Stevens' work. With a songwriting acumen that is stunning for a 25-year-old and a gorgeous, warm voice that seemingly can do anything, Stevens is an artist who earns fans on the first listen or show.

Much of the attraction is her unflinching, bold songwriting. In Sleepwalking she describes a life of regret and lost opportunities "Sleepwalking through this / clinging to this / since it's us and all we know . . . maybe if I was skinny and really pretty / you wouldn't leave me all alone."

Her early life had plenty of moving from place to place, the suicide of a much-older brother and other hardships.

"Life was definitely not stable. But it wasn't terrible," Stevens says. "I had a lot of hard things happen to me growing up. But music was definitely my outlet. My mom was an alcoholic and my parents got divorced when I was really young."

Is suffering in real life necessary to create great art? Perhaps, Stevens says.

"I've always loved music and to sing, but I don't think I'd necessarily be a singer/songwriter" without those early life experiences, Stevens says. Songwriting "was a way for me to express it. I picked up the guitar because I had so much to say. Music just kind of found me."

She was always interested in performing, but mainly in hip-hop and dancing, she says. A handful of female songwriters inspired her, especially Johnette Napolitano of Concrete Blonde.

"I got into Ani DiFranco and Alanis Morissette when I was really young. My first two years of playing open mics, when I was 18, I definitely sounded like that," she says.

Concrete Blonde had a punk-ballad hit in 1990 with the song Joey on the album Bloodletting. A few years later the band released a stunning acoustic version of Joey on the Still in Hollywood CD "which was absolutely incredible," says Stevens.

"It blew my mind and totally changed my perspective of writing. It definitely changed my perspective of how I use my voice."

That led to exploration of more music, to the point where Stevens found her own identity in music years before many artists do, blending country, folk, pop and blues in a style that's completely original.

"It's like a flood of new influences that you can soak up. Then it's hard to define your own style. I'm so influenced by so many musicians I don't feel like I'm trying to copy anyone," she says.

She gigged around the Midwest and took a shot at college in Minnesota, but "I'd reached a plateau. It was either move to Minneapolis and stay with the indie scene or go to California and get the ball rolling," she says.

She never made it there, ending up in Colorado for a relationship that has since ended.

"At first Denver was very difficult for me. Denver is the kind of scene where it's not just about playing shows. It's about talking with people and getting involved with different musicians . . . really getting yourself out there. You have to be just as supportive of the other musicians," she says.

That worked out and the acclaim was quick to come. The band has won rave reviews, talent contests and has picked up a sponsorship from Coors.

"It is surprising," she says of the glowing notices her work has gotten. "It's overwhelming and exciting all at the same time. I love this so much. I don't do it for thinking I'm going to be rich someday. I do it because I love it so much. It has been a wild ride. Every single week there's something new happening.'

The latest album, I'm OK, came out more than a year ago. The next project is more ambitious: Stand Up Girl is a two-part album, one disc with the band, one solo acoustic.

They're out on Aug. 8 with a CD-release party at Red Rocks as the Angie Stevens Band performs as part of the Film on the Rocks series.

The band CD is a more polished effort; the acoustic disc is mainly Stevens and her guitar, and "talks more about those experiences I had growing up in a broken home."
- Mark Brown, Rocky Mountain News, June 15, 2006

Listen to Susan Phelan deliver traffic reports on the radio every morning for KHOW, The Fox and other Clear Channel stations, and she sounds like just another soccer mom scrambling to get the kids to school.

Phelan in real life, however, is a revelation: a stunning 6-foot-1-inch redhead with lush head-to-toe tattoos who plays stand-up bass in several musical configurations, most notably the sublime Angie Stevens Band.

"They say I sound like a librarian or something like that. Maybe that's KHOW. I rock it up a little bit for KBPI. But yeah, people usually are surprised when they find out that that's me," says Phelan, 39.

Her training before that? A couple of years as a professional wrestler with Powerful Women of Wrestling, which probably contributes to her athleticism in surfing atop her bass as she plays it. See it all, complete with wrestling clips, on her MySpace page.

Rocky pop music writer Mark Brown spoke with Phelan recently about a few of her favorite things. The tattoos

"I was about 23 when I got my first one. In the past five or six years I've gone pretty strong. My first tattoo is one that I have since covered. It was on my back, a lion with a scorpion tail. It was just faded and I went with this whole Asian theme so I decided to cover it up. I had a bunch of little tattoos at first then I decided I wanted to go big. My artist, Grendel at Peter Tat-2, inspired me with her art so I wanted to cover my body with her art. I wanted a geisha and said, 'Just make it big.' That's where it started."

The bass

Her father, Jack Phelan, "owned a musical instrument store (in Carmel, Ind.) when I was growing up. He was a jazz bassist. I started playing at age 7. We made my own bass, we put KISS stickers on it. He passed on in 2004 and I inherited his upright bass. That's when I started playing upright."

Pro wrestling to radio

"I did (wrestling) in the early '90s, pretty much straight out of college. I was 20, living on Miami Beach - we toured the Midwest and South - taping a late-night TV show. I wrestled as Liberty. Despite the fact that most of the matches were choreographed, there were times when grudges were worked out in the ring. Hits were harder, some dirty tricks were played, but most of the time, we all got along. I've worked at Starbucks, I've taught music. I got into traffic reporting about six years ago. A friend of mine was working there and called to tell me there was an opening. I submitted a demo tape and I was in the right place at the right time."

Juggling late-night gigs with early-morning radio

"Thankfully I have time off during the day when I can sleep . . . I have a gig tonight, I have to play, won't get home till 11:30 or 12 and I have to be at work at 6. I'm getting used to it. I love playing music and I love doing traffic, so I'm excited to do either."

A music career that takes off

"It's something I'm so passionate about, I'm not going to give up. You can push me in my wheelchair when I'm 80 years old, you can prop me up with my bass. I wanna travel the world and play for the masses. Angie (Stevens) is talented enough that the world should know about her. Definitely the plan is to someday quit traffic and do music full time."

What helps

"Just getting people in the door. Once they're there it's easy to capture them. With Angie's music and our energy together, once we get the people in the door they love it . . . She was just on the HBO show, Big Love. Slowly but surely, the next gig is better than the last gig."

Has Angie ever fallen off the bass when they ride it during the show?

"No. Angie did that one show where she hopped up on my bass in three-inch heels. No mishaps yet."

Ever faced sexist attitude as a female musician?

"Not after I get onstage. They can think what they want till I get onstage. I know I can bring it as hard as any man up onstage. It's kinda funny - people are usually pretty surprised when I get done playing. I'm a pretty decent player. There are still not a lot of women out there."

Susan Phelan

* When and where: 8 p.m. Friday, D Note, 7519 Grandview Ave, Arvada, with the Angie Stevens Band, $7; and 7 p.m. Sunday, Lannie's Clocktower Cabaret, 16th Street Mall at Arapahoe Street, with Velvet Elvis, $20 online or $25 at the door.

* Information: myspace.com/chixbassist
- Mark Brown, Rocky Mountain News, December 20, 2007

With each release, Angie Stevens's songwriting has only become sharper, and here, guided by the gentle hand of Grammy-winning production ace Malcolm Burn, she's at her absolute best. The spacious, understated instrumentation enhances without overwhelming, giving the songs plenty of room to breathe and allowing Stevens's captivating voice to soar. - Dave Herrera, Westword, December 22, 2009

Angie Stevens releases her first 'album of contentment'

By JOHN HANSEN
Entertainment Editor

Five years ago, Angie Stevens was riding high on the three albums she independently released in Brainerd. She was a fixture on stage at the Eclectic Cafe downtown. Then she disappeared.

That's not an uncommon story among young singer-songwriters, especially those who thrived in Brainerd's mini-folk boom at the turn of the millennium. But Stevens' story has a happy continuation in the form of her fourth and best album, "I'm Okay."

"I think it's an album that says I've been through a lot, I've grown a lot and in the end I'm OK," Stevens, 25, said in a recent phone interview while riding through Denver with her husband (as of September) and 2-year-old son.

Denver is the latest stop on a journey that has gone through Rapid City, S.D., (Stevens' childhood years); Fargo, N.D., (her high-school years); St. Cloud (her aborted attempt at college); and Brainerd (her folkie beginnings). She moved to the Rockies for a love affair that eventually ended up on the rocks, but "it turned out to be the best side track I ever took," the singer/guitarist said.

She's happy to return to her "home away from home" for a concert 8 p.m. Friday at the E, her first Brainerd show in two years.

"(Eclectic Cafe owners) Matt and Jess (Taylor) took me under their wing for 'Change is Here' (2001) and 'Whole New Route' (2000). They kind of helped me in my journey," Stevens said. (2001's "Live at the E" rounds out her Brainerd trilogy.)

Fans of those early efforts will recognize Stevens' transporting vocals on the new album, but they'll also notice a diversity of genres she hadn't previously displayed. The pleasant surprises -- the bluegrassy "Little Things," the rocking "Heaven Knows" and the emotive "This Soul, These Hands" -- are partly what Stevens had in mind when writing the tracks and partly the contributions of her two new bandmates, Evan Beatty on bass and Sean Hodges on drums.

When Stevens carried her guitar and notebooks into a Fort Collins, Colo., studio in January, "I had ridiculous amounts of music to work with, five years worth of material," Stevens said. "I really wanted to build an eclectic album that reflects all aspects of me. I love bluegrass, I love rock."

The 1998 Fargo South High School graduate still writes "for the confused young girls who sit in their rooms and cry," even if she is no longer one of those girls. Stevens never took formal music classes, but she bounced ideas around with Brenda Weiler, two years her elder at South (and now a successful folkie in Oregon). Indeed, Stevens' early work has echoes of Weiler.

"I'm Okay," however, is undeniably an Angie Stevens record.

"I think I improved first and foremost on my vocals. I grew up as a singer, I found my voice. I had been living in the shadows of people like Brenda, Ani DiFranco, my influences. Writing on my own, and even living out here on my own where I didn't know anybody, has helped me develop a voice."

Stevens explores heartache and love, confusion and simple pleasures on "I'm Okay." She's passionate about politics, but generally keeps that out of her music (she wrote a song critical of President Bush during last year's campaign, but doesn't play it much). She also doesn't sing about her brother (and stage-moniker namesake) Steven, who committed suicide at age 21, when Angie was 10. It's just too hard.

"I've tried to write maybe 10 songs about him, but I've never been able to figure out how to represent someone's life in a song," Stevens said. "That's too big for me to even try."

In a way, however, Steven is always on stage with Angie, by the very fact that she's still on stage.

"I think having someone die in your family affects your life and all aspects of it," Stevens said. "When you're living a very real life, you tell a very real story. That's why my lyrics are raw. I'm not afraid to talk about things even if they hurt. I don't candy-coat things."

But ultimately, the new disc is "an album of contentment," the first of Stevens' career to fit that description.

"Obviously each individual song isn't about being content, but if you look at the album as a whole ... I've had five years of ups and downs. I'm becoming a successful mother and a successful musician. Through everything, I'm OK."

JOHN HANSEN can be reached at john.hansen@brainerddispatch.com or 855-5863. - Brainerd Dispatch 6/16/2005

Angie Stevens grew up in Rapid City, but now she has a swiftly developing career in Colorado, where she played the coffeehouse circuit before deciding to get herself a band and record a CD.

The disc, "I'm Okay," is an impressive set of 12 songs that showcases both her songwriting and her voice.

Stevens mixes a potent dose of rock 'n' roll with traditional country and bluegrass inclinations. Her Web site calls her "populist, as opposed to pop." That's an apt self-assessment; her songs thrive on their indie cred.

Stevens sounds like a smooth blend of Melissa Etheridge and Grace Slick. Her music relies on the better aspects of the Indigo Girls and 10,000 Maniacs. Stevens' lyrics come from the fertile ground of personal experience. When she sings, you feel the passion and pain in her words.

In "Heaven Knows," she alternates between lonely wail and sultry contemplation as she wonders about how far a relationship might go.

"Little Things" is a catchy tune that must be great in live performance. Drummer Sean Hodges and bassist-guitarist Evan Beatty lay down a taut country rhythm with a hot saxophone line that lifts Stevens' vocals to their own plateau.

As a whole, "I'm Okay" is a lively set that Stevens and her band deftly flesh out from their coffeehouse roots.
- Eric Lochridge, Rapid City Journal, 6/17/2005

In the age of high tech instrumentation and digital sampling, the standup bass has become almost extinct in modern music.  Standup bassists are a rare breed, and so it all the more special that Colorado is unusually blessed with two crazy and capable players: Susan Phelan and Tyson Murray.  Phelan, of the Angie Stevens Band and The Velvet Elvis, and Murray, of the country-rock band The Railbenders, add their respective flavors to their company as only a standup player can. 

Ladies first: Phelan is as colorful a character as you could ever meet, both figuratively and physically.  The former X-Pro wrestler, known as “Liberty” with POWW in the late 90’s, whose current day gig is as a traffic reporter for several local Denver radio stations, is a statuesque 6’1”, and covered in an impressive array of lively tattoos.  With her black and red hair, one would hardly expect this beauty to be seen hauling around a 150 lb. acoustic bass.  Not only does she haul it, she plays the hell out of it.  A natural showman, Phelan has perfected the art of spinning, dipping, and yes, even standing on her bass while playing it – she’s indeed something to behold. 

Murray on the other hand is a smooth operator, and has been seen enjoying a cigarette or two during many a song.  Murray describes himself as a hack when it comes to his bass playing, but there are many fans of The Railbenders who would fiercely disagree.  The Railbenders, who won the official sponsorship of the Coors Brewing Company, along with a really great logo, were started by Murray and Jim Dalton in 2000.  These boys have been slappin’ down the track as fast as they can, and it’s been paying off.  The band is seeing a surge of interest, including recent tours alongside the Supersuckers and Cracker that took them to Salt Lake City, along the I-70 corridor through Durango, over to Colorado Springs and ending with Austin and Dallas where they performed at South by Southwest.  They’ve opened for some of their beloved old-school country stars like Dwight Yoakam, Willy Nelson, and the Oak Ridge Boys. 

Meet Susan Phelan of The Velvet Elvis and Angie Stevens

Phelan, born and raised in Indiana, was greatly influenced by her beloved father: A shop owner by day, and jazz bassist by night.  “I grew up in a musical instrument store owned by my father.  Each day, we were surrounded by musicians, mostly male, and I was always encouraged to play.  Being a girl was never an issue or obstacle during my younger years.  I started playing bass at seven years of age, and I was encouraged to be the best player I could be.  I always understood that there would be players better then me and I would always have things to learn.  I was taught to be technically proficient so I could express myself on my instrument, as well as that I was expected to haul my own heavy gear.”  

Phelan’s early influences included Gene Simmons from KISS, and she remembers performing a version of “Beth” in her fifth-grade talent show, complete with Simmons makeup applied by her proud mother.  However, not all of the family approved.  “My grandfather discouraged my pursuit into professional music.  He felt that, because I was a girl, I had no future in music.  That crushed my confidence and I decided not to pursue music in college.  Instead, I dropped out of school and became a professional wrestler.”
 
After a move to Colorado, the Phelan’s passion couldn’t wait any longer.  Phelan picked up the electric bass again and started playing in local bands like National Blues Arsenal, Gata Negra, TransJam, Michelle, The Book of Runes, and David and Galoshes.  After her father died in 2004, Phelan inherited his upright bass.  She was playing with Buckwild at the time, and decided to try and incorporate the upright for their rockabilly style.  “After that,” says Phelan, “there was no turning back!  I don’t want to have anything to do with the electric any more.  I decided to save my dad’s bass from having my foot go through it when I stand on it, so I got my own upright.  I use my dad’s bass more for jazz gigs.” 

Phelan has lived in the Denver area for 13 years now, and has been surprised by how much she loves living here.  She is very impressed with the camaraderie present in the local music scene.  “I want to give ‘props’ to some of the standup bass players in town: Tyson of the Railbenders, Jimmy from The Mighty Eighteen Wheelers and Lance Bakemeyer of the Hillbilly Hellcats.  As we would play gigs with them, they would take me aside and say ‘Hey, check out my bass.’  Lance gave me a pick up.  These guys helped me along the way and showed me some of their tricks.  Everyone is so supportive of one another - in other places they’re not like that.”

Audiences and musicians alike have always given this female upright-player the nod.  “People are surprised when they see me hauling my gear,” says Phelan about being such an odd duck.  “I’m very grateful that people have been inspired by what I do.  That makes me want to give it more for the next show.  I hope that I can be an inspiration to some of the younger kids playing upright.”

Phelan has a lot to say about the gender barrier in most rock music.  “In my experience, I have found that most rock musicians are men. Obviously there are gender-based barriers inherent in the music business with different criteria for men and women.  This is a little disappointing.  Some people are only concerned with what the chick looks like and not if she can actually play.  In the past, most of the rock shows I’ve played; I’ve been the only woman performing on the bill.  I’ve had to explain to doormen at venues that I’m in the band and not a girlfriend of a band member.  I’m often ignored in the big-box music stores, and hassled by drunks while setting up my gear.  I’ve always tried to ignore this gender line and the guys in my bands don’t treat me any differently.  To me, it’s the quality of one’s playing and not the gender of the artist.  I’m a musician first and foremost and I want to pass this on to younger women and show them they can be anything they want.  However, it does have some benefits, like my own hotel room.”

A great player in her own right, and acknowledged as such by her peers who have great respect for her, Phelan’s showmanship takes no back seat.  She is very rough on her bass and is grateful for a good local repair man.  “I drag it across the floor, slap it, jump on it, I try to give everything I have for each performance.  I want to break a sweat.  I want my calluses to bleed.  I play for myself.  I always think that my dad would be proud.”

Meet Tyson Murray of the Railbenders

Murray grew up in Winter Park, CO and graduated from Middle Park High School in Grandby.  Murray says he was practically raised in the local tavern, the Frazier Saloon, as it was called at the time.  “My parents were good friends with the owners.  I pretty much grew up in that bar.  I love small towns.  That’s part of why I really like Denver.  It’s got a small-town feel and I hope that never changes.  Someday I’ll retire back to some tiny little town somewhere.”
Murray quit playing clarinet in middle school because he didn’t want to be the only boy in the clarinet section, a typical guy thing.  “I was actually pretty good at it and could read music, and I liked it and wish I would have kept at it.  Hind-sight’s 20/20 I guess.  I just couldn’t be the only boy in high school playing the clarinet.”
On New Years Eve of 1989 in San Diego, a 19 year old Murray saw Big Sandy and His Fly Rite Boys, a rockabilly group, and “pretty much fell in love with the upright bass right then and there.”  Murray feels he got a late but standard start when he was 24, playing electric bass in a couple of punk-rock bands, then picked up an upright, and started studying Kevin Smith of High Noon and Lee Rocker from the Stray Cats.  “Lance Bakemeyer loaned me my first bass while I was trying to figure out what I wanted.  I’m not really a typical musician in that I haven’t studied music.  I don’t know a ton about players from the 30s and 40s, or 80s and 90s even.  I just kinda like what I like, and if I like it I listen to it and try and figure it out.  I’m not a technical player.  I’m pretty self-taught.  I’ve never taken any lessons or anything and I’d like to be a better player.  I wish I had started sooner.” 

After being hooked up with Jim Dalton by Bakemeyer, Dalton and Murray found they had a common interest in country music.  They then started the Railbenders and have toughed it out together for nine years.  “We did it because that’s the music we love to do.”

Murray has owned clubs for the last six years.  Before that he was in telecommunications construction.  “I was a glorified ditch digger, but I was the boss so I got to sit in a warm truck when it was cold outside.  I actually helped build the fiber upgrade for Comcast around Denver and the fiber-op net around Denver and Castle Rock.  I kind of miss being outside.”

As the current sole-proprietor of the Crown Hill Taphouse near 26th and Kipling, Murray has his hands full.  He opened the establishment in August of 2007 with the dreams of making it the newest “secret musicians hide-out,” and has found the challenges of ownership somewhat daunting, though he feels equal to the challenge.  Recently, Phelan has been appearing with Stevens as one of the hosts for Tyson’s open mic on Monday nights.  Murray hopes to build a singer-songwriter-in-the-round like they have in Nashville soon.

When asked to describe his style on stage, Murray’s response was, “I try not to look like a jack-ass up there.”  Murray has never stood on his bass; he feels it is way too expensive a move, but likes to be aggressive and slap his bass when he can and have fun.  “Susan’s a little lighter than me, or braver - I don’t know.  She’s quite the show-person on stage.  I’m a pretty big fan of hers.”

“There’s a lot of good bass players around Denver,” continues Murray.  “It’s kind of a niche.  It is pretty uncommon and I think that’s part of the reason I like it.  It’s a little flashier, a little more showy.  There is very little bass equipment out there that is made for anything other than jazz bass, so you have to adapt.  It’s got to have preamps and be tube driven or it just doesn’t sound warm.  Another challenge is that the really good equipment is really expensive too.  It’s got to be good stuff and that makes it an expensive hobby.  And you have to have a big car.  It’s the next best thing to being a drummer.  Drummers have more pieces, but ours are bigger and heavier.  It’s certainly not about convenience.  If you are playing [bass] all night long, it takes a lot of stamina.  Just being a good bass player is a challenge for me.  I’ve masked my shortcomings by surrounding myself with really good musicians.  I don’t worry about it too much because the other guys in my band are phenomenal and they make me look good.” - Sydney Hostetler, Colorado Music Buzz, April 2008

"Go on: Just try to find a single soul who's seen Angie Stevens live and not been completely entranced. Backed by a stellar cast of musicians, Stevens engages audiences in a way that makes every performance feel intimate, like she's playing her songs just for you. The amiable chanteuse has shared the bill with a wide array of performers and had every audience riveted by the end of each set. Hell, she's so compelling, we're pretty sure that her earnest acoustic-based rock could win over a Cephalic Carnage crowd. Bolstered by songs that are often chillingly poignant ('Judy,' for example, a song about her mother), Stevens makes the icicles form on your spine the minute she takes the stage."
Westword, Best Singer/Songwriter of Denver 2006

"Angie Stevens is a songwriter in the truest sense of the word. Some people write good music with no story, others have good ideas with weak music. She writes passionate songs and there is power in her story. She's got the songs and her performance of them is riveting."
Isaac Slade, The Fray

"With a songwriting acumen that is stunning for a 25-year-old and a gorgeous, warm voice that seemingly can do anything, Stevens is an artist who earns fans on the first listen or show."
Mark Brown, Rocky Mountain News

"Angie Stevens is a master of both recording and stage and will engage you personally like only a handful of artists can do. ... 'I'm Okay' is a do-it-yourself masterpiece: a star that shines this brightly won't be a secret long."
Russ Christiansen, Xposur magazine

"She has a sick voice, eh?"
Joe Sakic, Colorado Avalanche

"Singer/songwriter Angie Stevens puts it as eloquently as any young mother and wife would: 'I'm just trying to find good enough.' Stevens' album, Stand Up Girl, showcases her vulnerable voice reminiscent of music from the '50s and '60s: a gentle combination of roll, (not rock), and traditional country. ... Stand Up Girl can't help but be the much-needed soundtrack for those of us who are finding the bubblegum, over-produced pop tunes of MTV's 'Total Request Live' unfit for dealing with real life problems."
Page Bayless, Marquee Magazine

"The best female singer/songwriter to ever come out of Denver."
Jay Ruybal, Marketing Program Manager, Red Rocks Amphitheater

"'I'm Okay' is a colossal CD. ... Country, blues, rootsrock, bluegrass, and honky-tonk, Angie Stevens combines them into a lovely whole. She writes beautiful intimate songs which have a strong autobiographical character. ... Remember that name: Angie Stevens."
ROOTSTIME, Belgium

"Your album is like 'whoa'! Sounds great on the radio!"
Michael McCartney, KEAO / KONI / KPMW / KTOH Hawaii

"She sure sounds like a future star based on a listen to her two recent ``Stand Up Girl'' EPs: She can sing, she can write, and she can even rock. Jewel would kill to be this good."
Shay Quillen, San Jose Mercury News

"One of the most beautiful pop songs of last year was 'Breathe' by Anna Nalick. 'Words' has the same beauty, with more folk and a bit of twang. ... 'Stand Up Girl,' the piano-driven title song (about holding your head up high in the face of a challenge) could become an anthem. ... The thirteen songs of 'Stand Up 1' and 'Stand Up 2' work wonderfully together as a fully integrated package. Totally sincere. And with the gift and feeling for an arresting melody."
Patrick Donners, Hanx, Netherlands

"With today’s overabundance of countrified singer/songwriters, it’s easy to get lost in the shuffle. Anyone can pick up an acoustic guitar, strum some earthy lullabies at a coffee shop and fade into the aromatic ambiance of the night. To avoid this, one must stand out. And standing out takes something more — something along the lines of talent. Luckily for Colorado’s Angie Stevens, she’s got it. ... the two [Stand Up Girl] discs offer up 13 alluring tracks that effectively blur the line between pop and country. 'Words,' a sweeping, radio-ready opus, opens disc one, and Stevens doesn’t let go of her hold on listeners until disc two draws to a close. Other highlights include the R.E.M.-worthy 'Picture (Passion and Pain),' 'Baby Toes,' with its drooping, Pearl Jam-esque bass lines, and the seductive, whiskey-soaked 'Sleep Never Comes.'"
Matthew R. Perrine, Duluth Budgeteer

"Angie...well, she's the best singer-songwriter in Denver, kids...everyone knows she's a fuckin' star...get soma what she's got!"
Mark Sundermeier, The Soiled Dove, Denver

"Angie's style and unique vibe are a refreshing break from the same old thing... loved it!"
Scott Thomas, CEO, Zeo Radio Networks, Denver

"One of the most talented chicks in the world."
Jess Taylor, Eclectic Cafe, Brainerd, MN

"She's a got a bubblegum rock voice, but she ain't singin' bubblegum, she's amazing."
Steve Thorpe, Panache magazine

"Angie's voice knocks audiences over like a sledge-hammer!"
Matt Fecher, Executive Director, Monolith Festival

"[Angie's concert at Red Rocks] was one of the most emotionally moving events I've been witness to in a very long time."
Chris K, KRFC, Fort Collins

"[Stand Up Girl] would fit perfectly on any current radio play-list ... the tight performances and production here should please discerning country-pop fans."
John Wenzel, Denver Post

"When she performs, she rocks out. She doesn't just sit there, strum her guitar and stare - she rocks!"
Lucas Johnson, St. Cloud [MN] Times

"The toast of Denver has a bittersweet country-folk voice and a way with words."
Jon Bream, Minneapolis Star-Tribune

"(1) She accomplishes in three minutes what I spend entire novels doing, she does it better, and groups of tattooed women go-go dance on bartops when she does. Tell me that isn't special. (2) Angie captures and conveys the intense loneliness what wallows within the heart of a deep thinker living in this thoughtless world. She's a rare breed of person with acute perceptions and no ability whatsoever to lie about what she sees, no matter how much better that might make a person feel and I, for one, wish I knew more people just like her. (3) The golden voice, the vessel by which it is all delivered, is as unique and beautiful as it is unrivalled."
Rob Callahan, writer and former KVSC (St. Cloud MN) radio guy

"Stevens starts 'Words' by creating a world with her gorgeous voice ... Live staple 'Favorite Rerun' shakes the roadhouse and 'Baby Toes' is a rockabye that would make Shawn Mullins envious."
John Hansen, Brainerd [MN] Dispatch

"Angie is one of the most eloquent artists [I have] ever worked with. [I] was blown away by her writing and singing when John McVey brought [me] in to Coupe Studios in Boulder, CO to play on 4 songs for her new record."
Taylor Mesple, musician/composer/producer

"The music draws from a variety of influences: one can hear blues, jazz, folk and some country in her songs but it is above all her voice, full of soul and passion that will send you clamoring for her CDs. ... see for yourself why people are tripping over themselves to see this powerful young woman perform."
Swallow Hill, Denver

"We were just blown away by her talent. She shows such passion for music and ... well.. I just don't know what to say. I would drag every friend I know to her future shows. It was truly a spiritual performance. Hadn't felt that way in years from an acoustic night."
Eric Fletcher, Publisher, Colorado Music Buzz

"And though Stevens' sweet voice is as strong and clear as that of a Nashville diva, she's fighting the good fight, hewing closer to country's humble folk roots than its gussied-up modern spawn. ... [I'm Okay] sits comfortably alongside the work of a number of recent young traditionalists, such as Mindy Smith and Kasey Chambers. ... such an accomplished debut ..."
Jenny Shank, New West Network

"You are the best songwriter I have heard in a long time. Your voice is incredible ... You have that special something that a lot of people don't have. It's rare to see so many people hang on every word you sing."
Jim Dalton, The Railbenders

"I've been around a lot of singers so I'm really tuned in to voices. [When I first heard her] my jaw dropped ... She has such a unique quality in her voice."
Jake Schroeder, host, Mountain Homegrown Show, KQMT, Denver

"Angelic, soulful, powerful and poised."
Robert Eldridge, guitarist/composer (NPR/PBS)

"From arresting lyrics to a stunning stage presence, Angie Stevens' prowess as a songwriter and performer well exceeds her peers."
Kelly Magelky, Filament Productions

"The most outstanding thing about her music is the stunning beauty of Angie's voice. She sings like no one else!"
Bill Douglass, Royal Recording

"This Denver-based singer-songwriter's ballads are layered, carrying both the toe-tapping satisfaction and quiet melancholy with which life often socks us. ... Keep your ears open for some exceptionally tasty bass work and for Stevens' seasoned voice, which subtly captures the feeling that things are neither right nor wrong, but a wonderful mix of both."
Jake Schroeder, 5280 Magazine

"Angie is a wonderful singer. Her new CD, 'I'm Okay,' places her clear, confident voice squarely up front, which is a delight. ... Her 'folk-ish' background as a coffeehouse singer is apparent, but .. another dimension of her voice ... intrigues you with hints of Janis Joplin or maybe even a young Grace Slick."
Ed Skibbe, Enfuse magazine

"Angie Stevens has that rare quality. Compelling, passionate, sincere and unique all apply, but don't sum it up. In a sea of artists working to be heard, she just naturally shines. As a booking agent, a fellow musician, and music lover, I highly recommend her."
Ron Gordon, Walnut Room, Denver

"Angie's music is unique in its range and contrast. It is calming and familiar; at the same time it is intense and vulnerable. It will draw you in and hold you captive -- desperate for more!"
Jonah Hart, President, Noise Floor Entertainment

"...a stream of sound that is distinctly her own."
Ben Quirk, Vail Daily News
- Various Sources

Had this CD come to our offices via a major alternative country label like Vanguard or Lost Highway, or perchance arrived on a Paste Magazine sampler disk, it would not have been such a shock. After all, it is the media giants' job to weed through thousands of undiscovered artists and filter out all but the absurdly talented. Some labels and magazines have earned our respect by making us aware of bands like Whiskeytown or Bright Eyes -- I hold such artists on a pedestal that local independent releases rarely touch. But with this album I must admit that separate local and national measuring sticks be damned: Angie Stevens' release "I' m Okay" is the second best alternative country album I have heard in the last year, runner-up only to Conor Oberst's latest release. "I'm Okay" quickly landed a spot in the hallowed car CD changer between Mindy Smith and my daughter's copy of some Ani Difranco CD. And that, curiously, is kind of where it fits-sonically, as a fusion of genres, and as a symbolic bridge between local and national artists. Stevens is a masterful wordsmith with an acute sense of melody and original vocal phrasing, blessed with an emotive but bell-clear voice. Evan Beatty lends tasteful, melodic, and rhythm solid bass work throughout, and Sean Hodges provides zen mastery of his drum kit to achieve that elusive but primal gem known only as "essential percussion." The title track rolls soulfully, and moody early traditional and folk instrumentation at times augments already haunting American gothic images on tracks like "Little Things." Overall, this album is a stunningly diverse patchwork neatly woven inside a traditional framework and tied together by the band's artistic vision. Kudos to Bill Douglas on production efforts and to the band for its tasteful use of live tracking--complete with glorious imperfections from calloused hands sliding down guitar strings to the low-fi old-45 feel of "sleepwalking." Angie Stevens is a master of both recording and stage and will engage you personally like only a handful of artists can do. "I'm Okay" is a do-it-yourself masterpiece: a star that shines this brightly won't be a secret long.
- RUSS CHRISTIANSON, XPOSUR MAGAZINE, April 2005

Knowing that Angie Stevens grew up in South Dakota, it's not a stretch to imagine that music of her namesake group as the soundtrack for the dark, and cold, yet beautiful, winters she endured there. This Denver-based singer-songwriter's ballads are layered, carrying both the toe-tapping satisfaction and quiet melancholy with which life often socks us. Almost six years ago, Stevens tired of the bitter cold and fled the north, heading to California to pursue music. Luckily, she got less than halfway to the coast before she was sidetracked, indefinitely, by love in Denver. Today the Toad Tavern in Littleton is the best place to catch this vocalist in her element, backed up by a polished four-piece rock outfit. Keep your ears open for some exceptionally tasty bass work and for Stevens' seasoned voice, which subtly captures the feeling that things are neither right nor wrong, but a wonderful mix of both. - Jake Schroeder, 5280 Magazine, February 2006

Steve Henrickson would be proud of his kid sister. If he could hear the stunningly evocative singer-songwriter she's become, he'd recognize that she's somehow overcome that dark day in September 1991 when he took his own life. He'd see that she's channeled all the heartache of her 26 years into her art, making music that moves people. And more than anything, he'd know that everything Angie Stevens is, is because of him.When she was growing up in Rapid City, South Dakota, Angie's life was far from idyllic. In fact, her life reads like a Larry Clark screenplay. Her parents split when she was five, and Angie -- the youngest of four -- was a latchkey kid. To support the family, her mom held down three jobs, leaving Angie more or less to raise herself. "I had a lot more freedom than a lot of people did," Angie admits today. "I was hanging out with older people by the time I was twelve. I was learning about things that I probably shouldn't have learned about, smoking pot and drinking."

And even when her mother was around, things weren't much better. Angie's father had quickly remarried, sending her mother into a downward spiral of alcoholism. "She'd be drunk a lot," remembers Angie. "She'd come home, pass out on the couch, lights would be on, guys would be there, clothes would be strung all over. I'd have to make sure she got to bed and tell the guys to go home. It was just something where I was constantly taking care of her. The cops brought her home one time in just her nylons."

And then, when he was sixteen, Angie's brother Steve was injured in a motorcycle accident. Paralyzed in one leg, he was confined to a wheelchair. A few years later, he suffered third-degree burns on his other leg when he tried to test the bath water at a local hotel. "He sued the company and became a millionaire," Angie says. "With his money, he bought pot, guitars, and he would sit and write and sing. He was never in a band, but he was a huge music lover. He was so depressed because he was in a wheelchair that he felt like he could never do anything because of that."

He could be a big brother, though. Steve would reach out to Angie and her best friend, Gina Reynolds, inviting them over to watch movies and paying them to clean his house. But Steve's depression eventually overcame him, and he overdosed on morphine prescribed for pain connected to his paralysis. Angie vividly remembers the moment she found out he was gone.

"I came home from basketball practice," she recounts, "walked in the door and saw my mom. She was on the phone, screaming, wasted. I looked at the mirror and there was all these pictures and something written in lipstick, but I couldn't really read it. I was so frazzled; I knew something was going on. My mom grabbed me. I said, 'What's wrong? What's going on?' She hung up the phone and took me over and turned up 'Like a Rock' on the stereo and started dancing with me, with tears in her eyes. I said, 'Mom, what's wrong? Is it Dad?' She said, 'No, it's Steve.' I just collapsed, then got up and got on my bike and went to Gina's."

That chilling scene is memorialized on "Skyline Drive," one of three poignant cuts from Angie's two exceptional new discs, Stand Up Girl 1 & 2, that deal with Steve's death. Angie was just eleven when he killed himself, and she was devastated. He'd been more than just a brother; he'd been the one bright spot in a dark life filled with turmoil. The loss was profound, but it took some time for it to sink in.

"Since I had been spending so much time taking care of my mom," Angie says, "I didn't really have any time to deal with it. When I was older, it really started to hit me."

A year after Steve died, Angie and her mother packed up and moved to Fargo, North Dakota. But the change of scenery didn't cure Angie's mom, and officials there intervened, sending her to rehab for a month while Angie was placed in foster care.

"There was talk about sending me back to my dad's," Angie remembers. "I had the option of either going back to my dad's or staying and going to a foster home. I wanted to stay, because I wanted to be with my mom. Even through all the bullshit, I was very close to her, and I felt like I needed to take care of her." She also felt alienated from her father, who'd become extremely religious.

But then a friend's parents overheard Angie talking about killing herself, and she wound up hospitalized. "When you've lived a really terrible life," she notes, "and bad things keep happening to you, you start to feel like it's because of me -- it's like, 'Poor me, poor me. What's the point of living?'"

Although she was only in the hospital for seven days, the time away helped Angie put things in perspective. "When I got out, I realized there was so many other people who had gone through stuff like that," she says.

Misery loves company. Shortly after she was discharged, Angie became smitten with Mark Unverzagt, an equally troubled soul five years her senior. Several months after they started seeing each other, it became clear he had unchecked angst of his own.

"He started saying things to me like, 'One day you're going to wake up and I'm not going to be there,'" Angie recalls. "I caught him with slashes all over his wrists and told him that I couldn't handle it, that I couldn't even handle him talking about it, that if he died, I would die. I thought that would help him. Then he broke up with me. He said, 'I can't be with you.' I said, 'Why?' and he said, 'I can't tell you, but I just can't be with you.' He went out and wrecked his car that night, slashed everything inside, and a week later, he killed himself."Angie was just fourteen. To sort through her emotions, she began looking inward.

"I was in a creative-writing class, and the teacher told me to write a story," she remembers. "So I sat down and wrote the story about the day when I found out that Mark died. And she read it in front of the whole class. She was like, 'Angie, you have something inside of you that you really need to get out.'"

Soon she was doing just that. When Angie turned sixteen, her mom got Steve's old Stratocaster out of storage and gave it to her. She wasted no time teaching herself how to play. By the time she left for college in St. Cloud, Minnesota, Angie had mastered enough songs to start performing. At school, she played out more than she studied, and after a year and a half of college, she dropped out and headed west. She'd planned to accompany her producer/boyfriend to California, but never made it that far. Like many lost souls before her, Angie found herself in Colorado.

"I think that since I've come to Denver, I've grown up a lot," Angie says. "I became a mom and could reflect on everything and not be so attached to it. And I realized that music is about that expression. Right now, I'm still in that reflective stage. Both records that I'm putting out are totally reflective of my childhood, because I'm at the point where I can write about it."

Now, nearly six years after she started performing on open stages at the Mercury Cafe, and three years after assembling a band with Evan Beatty and Damon Scott, Angie Stevens is ready for her close-up. Her material is unflinchingly candid, bolstered by a gorgeous, lilting voice that recalls Sam Phillips at her most effervescent and Leigh Nash at her most delicate. And live, her riveting performances are as gut-wrenching for the audience as they are cathartic for her.

When Angie's singing about her mom on such songs as "Judy," from Stand Up Girl 1, she moves listeners with lines like these: "With her lips numb from the bottle/Her hands stained from the pills/We watched her fall to her knees/The day her only son died/Then we picked up her pieces/We held her and we cried." On "Picture," from Stand Up Girl 2, she recounts a time when her mom was beaten bloody by an ex-boyfriend ("I can picture the blood/That dripped from the phone/As she hid in the bathroom/Scared he was still home/I can still hear the siren/As they took her away/I can still see the look/On the neighbor's face"), and the emotion she conjures is palpable.

"I feel very vulnerable," Angie confesses. "It's my soul being bared. It's me. It's everything I'm about. So every time I sing, I go through that roller-coaster ride. And I think I need to. If I'm not feeling it, then I shouldn't be playing it."

On more than one occasion, she's had teary-eyed fans approach her to share their own harrowing experiences. "That's the big picture," Angie says. "Everybody's going through shit. If I didn't sing about it, I'd just end up dwelling on it. I've had girls break down, you know, after shows and cry and tell me their stories. They feel like they can reach out to me. They're like, 'Thank God. I have never said anything to anybody, but I've been going through the same thing. And when you sang, it finally came out, and I'm dealing with it.' I think that's the whole point."

Still, some members of her family have had a tough time dealing with her music. "It was hard for Mom," Angie admits, "but it was harder for my dad, because he wasn't there. As soon as I played 'Judy' for him the first time, right afterward he got up and left."

And how does Angie think Steve would react?

"I'm doing exactly what he dreamed of doing," she concludes. "I think he is so proud."

Show All - Dave Herrera, Westword, August 3rd 2006