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Come Write Me Down


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The Retro Modernist

Devon Sproule
Photo: Judith Burrows
That said, I have also enjoyed the more structured, rhyming styles of poetry – Edna St. Vincent Millay, Shakespeare’s sonnets, etc, not to mention my husband Paul Curreri’s heroically imaginative and intellectual writing – and thusly, I have quite a thing for descriptive writing…

The writer who has the freedom and privilege to express themselves must ultimately strike the balance between lovely, subtle (perhaps even cryptic) songs, and an indulgent, confessional and in the end, unattractive carbon copy of their bedside diary…

See you soon!


Paul Curreri to Devon Sproule (re. the above):

“Hey darling

Without having read what you’ve written, here are a few thoughts…

The melodic and thematic poetry is so lovingly crafted – so musically communicative – that the album’s commercial ability emerges almost as happenstance. It reaches the listener because of Sproule’s concentrated effort to honestly reach herself.

Gone is any hint of excess – there’s not a mask to be found on KYSS. Instead, the lyrics are explicitly home-grown, swept up observations and incite from the everyday, from the moments in between the to-do list.

This focused jumping-off point makes listening a breeze, makes for a thematically cohesive journey – both safe, and terribly exciting.

The album ponders the giddiness that accompanies the IDEA of settling down, of being part of something so traditional that it feels dangerous – like a restless kid at church who can’t wait to get his hands on that wine.

It’s risky business making something this pure, this beautiful, & this likely to be enjoyed & understood by so many.


fRom fRoots 289, July 2007


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