Interview + concert review: Sammy Rae and The Friends at The Orange Peel
“Mom, you gotta hear this!”
My daughter, then 16, put on “Jackie Onassis” by Sammy Rae and The Friends. I was instantly hooked, not only by the actual hook — one so infectious that I dare you to listen and not be singing it all day — but by the whole package. It’s a bildungsroman of a song; a narrative of wonder and romance made universal by its very peculiarity. It’s a celebration of discovery, and self-discovery, and all that bursts forth when we humans dare to love.
At the start of October, I had the pleasure of chatting with Sammy Rae on the phone. In New Orleans for the first time, she and the band were gearing up to play the House of Blues with — what else? — beignets and coffee from Cafe Du Monde. During our conversation, Sammy Rae (nee Samantha Bowers) revealed that they knew early on what they wanted to do, inspired in large part by Bruce Springsteen’s episode of VH1 Storytellers.
“I’d never seen a musician take their songs, break it all down, and explain where everything came from,” they said. “I realized for the first time, ‘Oh! Words plus music. Together, those are lyrics. And that’s storytelling.’ I’ve been enamored ever since.”
From there on, they committed to telling stories and found writing songs akin to a “secret code” that allowed the then 12-year-old to “process without coming right out and talking about [their] feelings.”
As with most of us, we may have a sense when we’re young of what we want to do, but there are detours and distractions along the way.
“Is it true that you almost became a nun?” I inquired.
“Oh my god, yes!” Laughing, she asked where I had dug up that detail.
“Hey, that’s my job,” I said.
After another laugh, they reflected on their time at an all girls Catholic high school. Following “a very hard time making friends in middle school,” they noticed that the high school girls who were admired by their peers and the nuns seemed especially dedicated to their faith.
“They were active in those environments on campus, so I threw myself into that identity,” they said. “As much as I wanted to pursue music, it seemed unrealistic — there wasn’t a clear path to making it happen. So for a moment there, when all my peers were looking at colleges, I was discerning different convents.”
Though they feel that the experience gave them leadership skills, direction, and a sense of purpose during those years, they ultimately decided not to take that path and instead focus on their identity as an artist. In turn, they continue to see the intersection of faith, art, and identity, albeit in new ways.
“I guess I don’t put it into words very often, but I feel that what we’re doing with this project is my mission in life,” they said. “This is how I make the world a better place. Running around, half band, half circus — it’s a spiritual environment. It’s been said a Friends show is rock 'n' roll church. We try to be as authentically ourselves as possible and encourage others to do the same — being ourselves so hard, it’s contagious. My spiritual sense of grounding lies in that community.”
That ebullient sense of community was on full display at The Orange Peel on Oct. 7. After a fantastic, rousing performance by beloved Asheville band The Collective, Sammy Rae and the Friends took the stage as if it was a surprise party and they were simultaneously the hosts and the guests of honor.
Sammy Rae, radiant in their signature bandana and sleeveless coverall made by Wildfang — a super stylish, gender neutral apparel company with whom they’ve partnered — guaranteed that the show’s energy wouldn’t let up for the next 90-plus minutes. Even during the more mellow numbers, the fire in the belly of this band was undeniable.
Drawing on elements of jazz, Broadway, funk, folk, and even kids’ pop, the Friends collectively created a wall of sound built on serpentine melodies and vigorous, inventive instrumentation. Between songs, any time Rae addressed the audience, they did so in a spoken melody that brought to mind a sort of rock 'n' roll cantor, possibly derived from their Catholic upbringing. Down stage left, an ASL interpreter functioned not simply as a provided service, but an eighth member of the band, effusive and rhythmic, and an integral part of the show.
The band is made up of Rae in the foreground with their top-notch vocal dexterity, C-Bass Chiriboga (drums), James Quinlan (bass), Will Leet (guitar/keys), Myra Moon (backing vocals), Kaya Kulu (backing vocals), Max Zooi (tenor saxophone/synths), and Kellon Anderson (alto saxophone). Theirs is a message of community, authenticity, inclusion, and other words that have lately become almost meaningless due to overuse — but they’re not meaningless to this band.
For starters, the name. The actual band members consider themselves simply the “faces” of the friends, but they think of themselves as a collective, along with sound mixers, lighting designers, publicists, bus drivers, the fans — everyone who has a part in making the project possible, those are all the friends. This kind of positivity isn’t just an attribute of Sammy Rae and The Friends; it’s their intention. They have a mantra: “Go put a smile on somebody’s face. Go tell somebody they’ve got a place in this world. Go tell somebody you want to be friends with them.”
My daughter and I left the show ready to do just that.
(Photo by Mia Aguirre)
