Brian Slattery
Denise Renee.
Denise Renee began her set at Sofar on Saturday night with a song patterned first from pats and clicks, sounds she could make into a microphone. A sung riff suggested a chord progression. That was all she needed to build her song. Within minutes, with just a few effects — some echo, a pitch shifter, a looper — and a lot of musical ingenuity, she had made a powerful uplifting song full of voices. “Because I need freedom, freedom, freedom,” she sang. As she got most of the audience to sing along, she sounded like she had all the freedom she needed.
Renee was the second performer of a three-act night that marked Sofar’s 11th show since its inauguration at Lotta Studio nearly a year ago. The roving concert series has visited neighborhoods all over the city; Saturday found it returning to the Bradley Street Bicycle Co-Op in East Rock to celebrate “the queendom,” as emcee Raven Blake put it. She and co-organizer Paul Bryant Hudson, who ran sound, decided that this month’s show should feature all women, in recognition of Women’s History Month, and “for all the reasons,” really.
The New Haven-based Emani Stallings began the evening with a set of mostly originals, and “most of the songs are a lot of whiny love songs, so you’re going to hear a lot about that,” she said with a smirk, drawing laughter. The playfulness of her banter in between songs didn’t prepare the audience for the emotionality of the songs themselves. The songs weren’t whiny; they were intense, a heady mixture of desperation and gathering strength, conveyed through her voice and the rapid-fire delivery of her lyrics.
“Thanks so much for listening to my sad songs,” she said near the end of her set, having charmed the crowd thoroughly by then. “A lot of these songs I’ve never sung for anyone — it’s been a lot of fun.”
“I need you on Spotify right now!” shouted someone from the audience. That audience member might soon get her wish, as Stallings revealed that she’s working on her first EP, due out in just a few months.
Where Stallings had a charming quietude about her, Denise Renee, “born and raised” in New Haven and “proud of where I’m from,” radiated confidence from the second she took the microphone.
“Don’t you just love intimate settings?” she said to the crowd huddled from the back of the room all the way to her feet. “We are all here to share and receive, not knowing who’s who…. You can go in one way and come out another way — hopefully positive. I hope I’m doing that.”
Her first song easily delivered on that promise, as did a second song that started with a musical quote from Afrobeat legend Fela Kuti and used it as a launchpad for a second number that further highlighted both Renee’s allegiance to groove and her uncanny vocal abilities. The crowd was enraptured by now and greeted her with riotous cheers and applause.
“Can I sing one more?” she said.
“Yes!” shouted many in the audience together. “Bless my life!” added a single voice.
“It’s a blessing to be with you,” Renee said. Her third and final number settled everyone down without losing the intensity. It came across as much a hymn of thanks as anything.
“We’re all getting real relaxed here,” said Blake at the end of Renee’s set. “I see people lounging.”
The third act of the night — DJ Ginger and Henny Red, representing the New Haven-based Miss/Chief Collective — fixed that. As they mixed together dance-floor favorites with their own sound, the duo got the crowd up and moving fast. Hands waved in the air. Hips shook. Smiles cracked and broadened.
In a few hours, a lot of people would be getting ready for church. At the Bradley Street Co-op, a few people were already there.
