It is fun to watch the metamorphosis of an artist, especially a young artist like JOUR (formerly known as Jourdan Meyers) with such a strong voice. I remember saying years ago that Jourdan had the voice of the sweetest torch singer in town. That’s not what I would say now. Her presence, her voice they feel more full force than sweet. Today she owns herself, owns her voice and is unafraid to use both to their fullest capacity.

Black Hole is a song that exemplifies the dichotomy of JOUR’s new sound. There’s a hint of Americana in the world of Electronica. JOUR’s voice is so powerful it propels a narration but on the side is a very interesting guitar meander. It’s like watching a play that features two conversations at once. Done poorly, it’s confusing. Done right, as JOUR has done it, it’s layered and interesting.

There are several songs like Black Hole that support multiple tunes or storylines that work in part because of the strong vocals that are generous enough to allow the other musicians to take the stage. It’s complex but again JOUR’s crystalline voice controls the chaos so much that it doesn’t feel like confusion it just feels like multiple simultaneous stories coming together.

My favorite song was Revolution; maybe because I appreciate anyone who highlights current events, especially in a time that is so divisive. And it does it with such finesse. Great art comes of troubled times. And the message isn’t overt but it’s purposeful.

Also worth noting, JOUR’s music brings the men on the dance floor. I love to see that support!

Bye Bye Banshee is a new project by Minneapolis songwriter Jezebel Jones. It’s a modern ballad of our final trip through death’s door with nod to ancient themes and characters that have preceded us. It explores death with curiosity and embraces the eventuality with coquettish spirit.

Jones’ ethereal presence sets the stage. The full band around her brings the celebratory feel of a New Orleans funeral march. Her sultry tone in If I Die in my Dreams has a swampy torch singer feel that makes the invitation to her dream equally sexy and scary. You can’t say no.

If the album is a voyage, Pschyopomps is sound of the footsteps into the abyss or dusty trail. There’s room for the instruments to take on their own winds in different directions that pull in different directions.

Skull Rattles reminds me of the Bare Bone’s Halloween show in St Paul. Similar to Deathfolk Magic it is the story of death and life and life after death – but at a community level. Skull Rattles has the unraveling feel of dénouement – of finale but freedom. The narration between songs alludes to previously being under the spell of religion but moving to an understanding that life is a dream – punctuated in the performance with a rendition or rift on Robert Frost’s Nothing Gold Can Stay.

I am a sucker for a strong voice belting out a twangy-angry anthem, especially on women’s rights. So hearing Kari Arnett sing Only a Woman at the Cedar on Thursday was a highlight. She wrote the song in reaction to how some men talk to women in the music industry – and get away with it. It’s unfortunately both a timely and timeless theme. I loved the music as well – especially toward the end of the song, there was a melee of tunes and sounds coming from each corner of the stage, filled with seven musicians. It was like listening to an interesting conversation – disassociated but complimentary and compelling.

Arnett’s music is country but there’s a range of country in it. She opened with Dark Water, reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac – in the best way. It has the same slow beat of The Chain. (Funny enough, the only cover Arnett played was another Fleetwood Mac song.) You can hear the influence of the band and the era when there was a cross over between country and rock, especially the rock ballad. Then The Americana Life has a very Western feel. Starting with sounds of languor from the steel pedal, the horse’s gallop in the drums, the plaintive violin and then the voice. The big, bold voice that carries the song from a hot summer day to some musical victory. There’s a sense of accomplishment just listening. Tired of This Town has a completely different sound; remorse and reverence turns to church choral with the harmony of vocals. It’s a twist to have a lovelorn song have such a sweet sound.

It will be fun to watch Arnett’s move forward. The new CD, When the Dust Settles is a terrific start. Unfortunately we’ll be watching it from a distance as she is soon moving to Nashville. Before she left she gave a gracious nod to the Minnesota Music Coalition for helping her get connected when she first moved to the Cities a few years ago.

Bonus of the night was having three women take center stage. Mary Bue started off the night. She played a new song, All the Things Broken. The power of the keyboard, her honest lyrics of heartbreak and the seemingly easy comfort of her voice can bring tears every time. Next was Becky Kapell with Paul Bergen, playing country music like I’ve heard on road trips with my dad my whole life. She can hit and hold a high note and bend it into any shape she wants.

It’s going to be a strange comparison, but John David reminds me of JJ Grey. There’s a swampy sound to this Northern band. But also they both share a joy on stage that is infectious.

It was fun to see John David & the Jerks play with the Collapsing Stars and Monica LaPLante at the Seventh Street Entry. David started by playing a dozen (or so) old songs and followed up with a rendition of the latest album in its entirety. The crowd clearly loved it. It’s always smart to go from the known to the new.

I found the newer material to be more reflective, especially with Swedish Dreams. It’s a pretty song. It’s mellow but melancholy is a positive way. But then there’s still danceability and toe tapping to be found in a song such as Friend Like You. David’s voice has a slight Dylanesque lilt. The band is awesome and really go full tilt.

There’s a sadness, longing and remorse in the music of Lowland Laker’s latest album, Lost in the Move. But there’s a sense of redemption too – or maybe growth. It’s calmly uplifting in a country music way.

The band at the Turf Club included regular members Haley Rydell ( on guitar, violin and vocals), Nate Case (on guitar, banjo and vocals), Taylor Donskey (on bass and vocals) and a borrowed keyboardist in Dave Mehling.

Let the Light Through is a slow song; Case is lead singer. It’s dark but it’s good. You have to like a song that fits in a Shakespeare quote!

Turns out He Doesn’t Waltz is about Donskey’s grandfather. It’s slow, pensive and Donskey sings. He has almost a bluesy voice and extends the words in a slow way that adds interest and I’m sure is reminiscent of his grandfather.

But they aren’t all slow. I like the uptick of All I’m Good For, sung by Rydell but written by the former bassist, Matt Donoghue, for his daughter. The keyboards on that song are especially catchy.