“Refreshingly, there are no cheap tricks here. Pi has evolved to become a master of song who delivers 100% music that's rich with devotion. Trying To Be Loved is a beautiful and powerful song from this true artist.”

 

"Pi Jacobs gets to the heart of the matter, sweetly and tenderly touching your soul."

In a way-overcrowded field of singer-songwriters who trendishly seek to evoke the depth and charms of their great forebears from the ’70s, Pi somehow carries it off, and she does it with the most deceptively simple tools: She writes memorable tunes, and she sings them with a satisfying alto sweetness that’s free of “singerly” gimmickery.

The title of singer/songwriter Pi's new album gives a lot of insight into what you can expect from her music. According to Chinese astrology, women born in the Year of the Fire Horse" are said to consume everything in their path and wreak havoc wherever they go. They are considered dangerous, headstrong, and are seen as deadly to men." Well, then, so much for the usual alt-folk indie pop fare. The record is shot through with minor chords, slow-burning harmonics, and arching hooks, all supporting Pi's powerful, low-slung, achey-breaky, wistful vocals that charm in a strange, been-around-the-block, but still innocent kind of way.

 

Pi Record Release Party This Weekend

Wednesday October 14, 2009

Looking to check out new musical artists on the weekend? This Saturday (October 17th), singer/songwriter Pi is throwing a record release event at Room 5 Lounge at 143 N. La Brea. Her album "Fire Horse Girl," produced by Randy Wine (U2 and Aretha Franklin) came out yesterday.

The straight-from-the-heart songstress channels the vibes of the classic singer/songwriters of the '70s, covering a range of topics from love and obsession to friendship and abandonment. Todd Ivy and Melissa Fahn will open for Pi. The evening's musical festivities are set to take place between 7 and 10 p.m., but Pi goes on at 9 p.m. Admission is $8. Admission + CD is $13.

What do you get when you cross a Haight-Ashbury born singer songwriter with a fire-breathing equine creature of mythological proportions? A horse of a different color? The kind of girl you don’t ride home to mother?

The lovely brunette, Pi Jacobs, sitting across the café table from me smiled mischievously, sipped her coffee. She’s spent a lifetime trying to live down the terrible reputation of the Fire Horse Girl. A headstrong, willful vixen according to the Eastern astrological stigma. Also the title of her latest album.

Basically an introvert at heart, Pi laughed. It’s been tough. This fire horse wasn’t a natural born show pony, after all. Pi recalled her first performance. Age three, she stood on stage with her preschool choir, a San Francisco hippy child with a solo to sing. She opened her mouth. “Come on, baby! Come on!” her mother cheered.

Pi grimaced. “And that was it. Nothing came out. I just sat there with my mouth open.”

Well that’s what they told her, at least; luckily she blocked the whole memory out. Every performer has their own obstacles to greatness, and Pi’s had to face her fears and personal hurdles. But she’s finally cleared the jump.

“I used to hate being onstage, giving interviews, doing TV shows and photo shoots. But right now I’m doing so much of that, that I just don’t care anymore. I know I’m not going to look perfect. It’s very freeing.”

“And I’ve gotten much better at being calm.” She said, then laughed and raised her cup. “Of course this coffee isn’t going to help.”

But don’t underestimate this fiery filly; nervous as she claims to be, Mrs. Jacobs is no lightweight. Pi has been busily living up to other terrifying reputations, while simultaneously living down her astrological one. In fact, when researching the singer before our interview, the first thing I noticed was the long list of strong female voices she was being compared to.

Joni Mitchell, Chrissie Hynde, Jewel, and the list goes on. Which is the most flattering, I asked her?

“Well, Chrissie Hynde is pretty flattering,” she said. “That was Randy Wine. The first day I met him he said that. It’s a great compliment because he actually recorded her.”

Now that’s flattering. Are you kidding me?

“But I always like to hear I sound like Joni Mitchell, because I grew up listening to her,” Pi said. “She’s iconic.”

And I’d have to agree that the seventies pop icon comparison fits well. Especially on Fire Horse Girl, where the resemblance and influence is unmistakable. Pi pays homage to the fascination we had with our parent’s record collections, without losing us in nostalgia. And I’m honored to have the pleasure of owning this album, with hopes of yes, passing it on.

Fire Horse Girl’s lyrics are happily frank, smart, and modern, with clips of clever absurdity. From Reverie: “What would Jesus do if he were me?” Pi’s definitely feminine, but not feminist, and California is all over the album, in a natural, carefree style. Pi’s smooth voice summons the Santa Anas for us, stretches in the sunlight, taunts and daydreams, takes us for a walk in new shoes.

Speaking of shoes. One song stood out, a sweet little tune called New Shoes. It’s ‘pop’, the way it should be—irresistibly satisfying. Like the sound bubble gum makes when you blow a nice tight bubble past its max. It just makes you smile. I had to ask where she got the inspiration.

“My husband says I have this shoe thing, because I’m half Filipino,” Pi joked. “But I just think it’s a great metaphor. When I wrote it, I was going through a time where I felt stuck. I wanted change. New duds.”

Pi feels she’s finally struck a great balance with the album Fire Horse Girl. Her first record she hired a talented, but heavy-handed producer who steered the record towards commercial viability. “And it was great,” Pi said. “But we had a tough working relationship. We fought a lot. And it took a toll.”

“The record after that, I did the whole thing myself. I played all the instruments, and engineered it. It was crazy, but I learned. That record, I like the songs, but it definitely sounds like I did it by myself.”

The next two albums, she brought in some amazing musicians, and the addition of producer Randy Wine (Aretha Franklin, U2) who also co-wrote some of the songs. The best part about it—working with people.

“Otherwise, I spend days and days alone,” Pi laughed. “It can get a little cuckoo.”

Now that she’s finished Fire Horse Girl, she’s enjoying going out to her friend’s shows, getting fresh inspiration. But it’s harder to find a scene in LA. The live music community, it’s hard to create in any city.

I wonder why?

Pi admits that some of the problem is economic. Money always makes it hard for people to show up and make it happen. And the way music is monetized doesn’t work for musicians. She used the example of the Killers show at the Hollywood bowl the other night.

“Here’s a show where so much money is being generated, but the majority of musicians out there are just struggling to play a local club. Their friends are trying to come up with the five-dollar cover,” Pi said. “With drinks, the cab fare…you know, it adds up.”

“Also people have to be educated on how to be an audience. It’s different than when I was growing up. In the seventies in S.F., and even the 80’s, people were really participatory during a show. Around the mid 90’s I started noticing more arm crossing. Like…ok, go ahead, I dare you to entertain me.”

I almost spit a mouthful of mango smoothie across the table laughing. The visual was great.

“Also I think that big music has changed how people look at music,” Pi continued.

Big, I asked? Like Brittany?

“Yes,” Pi said. “The technical aspects of these shows are phenomenal, and I love seeing stuff on a big scale, but on a local level, people have forgotten how to have a personal experience.”

It’s true. When you think of local live music it’s a small intimate club, someone with a guitar baring their soul up on the stage to an audience of slightly uncomfortable people who look like they would rather be downloading songs off the Internet in the privacy of their bedrooms.

But that’s why Pi loves the singer songwriter community. The people who go to small shows, and love acoustic music. “These people are really there to listen,” Pi said. “They dig on the words, they’re really involved in it.”

Thank you Mrs. Jacobs, you just described the MusicUnion community to a ‘T’. It’s nice to be loved. With that, I said goodbye to the northern California natural beauty, with a promise to see her at her record release party later this month. And you can join us if you like. Please do. You’re gonna’ love it.

Shannon Logan