Angelo

Scanning the lyric sheets of songs written for ANGELO’s latest project could yield any number of reactions from a layman’s perspective. Clever couplets nod toward sunny-day pop, but turn suddenly acidic – winding to a sweeping chorus – a sincere but cheeky tone – a consistent backbone of an effort yet unheard. It’s a steampot of a day in Nashville Tennessee, and amidst the dregs of the ill-fated Confederacy, even the shadows are taking refuge in whatever coolness they can find. Day two of the recording session, and the figure in the vocal booth is cackling away (a laugh that unmistakably vacillates between a giggle and a Sorcerer’s brew).

ANGELO is laying down a scratch vocal for the song ‘Hands Down’. A declaration of sorts, he writes about he missteps and false-starts in love. “We keep on loving in reverse..” he cries... “Hands down, Hands down”. In a studio gilded with records from every major Country Music star of today – the visual contrast is almost comical. A heavily tattooed, sinewy man, wearing a beat-down tank-top and a gold duster ring is not the regular bill of fare here – ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’ be damned. He’s a long way from the sunny shores of his native California, but music, like life – often finds its way to the most peculiar places.

Born into a veritable fiefdom of musicians, ANGELO’s legacy takes us back three generations. An immigrant grandfather who jammed his way to Nat King Cole, Tommy Dorsey and countless other Jazz greats – paved the way for a classically trained Mother, who at age seventeen, had already completed the first of several world tours. His Mother would cultivate a life-long pursuit of musicality – from song to stage to screen.

Having played clubs in New York, Atlanta, San Diego, Los Angeles, Chicago and San Francisco for the past six years – ANGELO’s newest project focuses solely on him as - the Artist. A shotgun vocalist with a galvanized range – he morphs now into the ever-present poet, a lyricist with a penchant for diction and a thousand-and-one things to say.

A little bit of Michael with a sprinkling of The Blues, a high note Buckley singing a mournful Fado...It’s hard to say what’s influ- enced and what’s hardwired DNA? But one thing is clear – this is the start of something good.