Chances are, you've heard Shivaree before and didn't even realize it. Maybe, on your last opulent European vacation, you caught the Italian TV commercial, peddling designer watches, that features one of the New York trio's songs. Or perhaps it was by way of singer Ambrosia Parsley's weekly segments for Air America Radio, "Ambrosia Sings the News."
Not ringing a bell? Okay, how about this one: Remember the sultry number that accompanied Uma Thurman's victory lap at the end of Kill Bill: Vol. 2? The country-cum-trip-hop ditty, sung by a woman who sounded like Gwen Stefani--only it wasn't? That was "Goodnight Moon," taken from Shivaree's 1999 debut I Oughtta Give You a Shot in the Head for Making Me Live in this Dump, produced by Joe Henry. And Parsley has zero idea how it wound up in the movie.
"I sat and thought about it one day, and I came up with only one possible connection," she says. "I have a friend who used to be a Teamster, and he was a driver on Pulp Fiction. He would always listen to our music in his car. That's the only person I know who's ever brushed up against Quentin Tarantino."
Hopefully, with the release of Shivaree's third album, Who's Got Trouble (on Zöe/Rounder Records), the band will transcend cult status. (Their second, 2002's Rough Dreams, came out in Europe only, "for about five minutes," before they got dropped.) Because once you've put a name to the music, Shivaree is hard to forget. Their sound is… well, a little bit country, a little bit Weimar Republic.
On Trouble's opener, "New Casablanca," Parsley makes like helium-voiced '70s R&B diva Minnie Ripperton trying to seduce a powerful world leader via song. With its twang-laden guitar and snares-and-cymbals rhythm track--provided by bandmates Duke McVinnie and Danny McGough--the driving "I Close My Eyes" recalls the sinister, film noir-influenced flights of underrated L.A. songstress Eleni Mandell. And the trio's slinky take on "Fat Lady of Limbourg," plucked from Brian Eno's 1974 outing Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy), is little more than multi-tracked vocals, drum loops, and splashes of guitar and keyboard, yet it feels as decadent as eating a whole box of Godiva chocolates in a single sitting.
Raised in California, Parsley credits her father and uncles, who hailed from West Virginia, for instilling her with a love of "mountain music." Her dad also introduced her to the music of Ray Charles and Louis Armstrong. But her first, and foremost, influence was her grandmother.
"She lived in our backyard, in a big Airstream trailer," recalls Parsley, and she played standards on the ukulele, all over town. "She was a great singer, too. She was a big lady with a wig, fake eyelashes, sparkly blue eye shadow, and loads of costume jewelry. She was slightly Baby Jane Hudson, but in a good way. She was called Da Uke Lady--with a D." That's right, dear. If the people like what they hear, make sure they get the name right.
