The Moon and You

A White Light that Sings, the recently released album from The Moon and You, is a kind of world within a world. A dream within a dream. Each of the 11 songs is its own delightfully weird fiction (or perhaps these songs are inspired by real events — the runaway friend, the pathological clothing borrower, a ne’er-do-well made over with an expensive haircut). What matters is the way The Moon and You core members, husband-and-wife musicians Ryan Furstenberg (vocals and guitar) and Melissa Hyman (vocals and cello), blend their voices and instruments and ideas into a comprehensive work.

That’s not to say the musicians’ individual personalities aren’t identifiable. They both have quirky senses of humor and their own takes on indie-folk. “Diamonds,” sung by Hyman, is a sultry Marilyn Monroe-meets-Madeleine Peyroux jazz offering. Folk-jazz, if that’s a thing. The song swings between the smoke and sparkle of a night club and the crackle and glow of a campfire; the clarinet and a chorus of muted horns could be right out of a Wood Allen film soundtrack.

There’s a kind of Mamas and Papas sensibility to “Ghost,” and the following track, “Autumn Days,” takes that folk-rock sounds into a more psychedelic realm. But the psyche-rock aspect is not from electric guitars and distortion. Instead, it’s the eerie, mountain blues captured in the melody, in the high, resonant strings and the mournful sweep of the cello, and mostly into the vocal harmonies that surround the listener like a cool, descending mist.

One of the album’s standouts is “Botton of the Road,” led by Furstenberg. It’s simple — just three verses and those are made up of repeated lines. But there’s so much heart and energy in the chorus: “Whooe hoo Whooe hoo / Sing it down / Whooe hoo Whooe hoo / I’m sorry I’m sorry.” The music — picked guitar, a loose and joyful cello part — matches the emotion of the vocal.

Hyman leads “Lion and the Rabbit,” the following track. It’s slow and careful start allows for shivery moments of sweetness and magic. The blending of the two voices on the chorus feels like a big deal. The introduction of a simple plucked-string melody, a few finger snaps and a jaunty whistle all elevate the song, but it returns, over and over, to its stripped intention. Hyman’s voice has a kind of purity, but the listener can sense her smile. Her vocal almost cracks in places. which only makes it better because it’s so authentic.

From the shimmying porch party of “Currituck County Moon” to the whimsical nocturne of “Austen’s Lullaby,” A White Light that Sings offers a glimpse into stories, moods and wonderful alternate realities — all set to an evocative score. - Alli Marshall "The Mountain Xpress"

"[A] duo from Asheville, N.C. that blends cello and guitar to craft folk music with a 1970’s singer-songwriter feel in the vein of Joan Baez or Harry Nilsson. Together they make tender songs that feel like a warm homemade blanket." - Wilmington-area Arts and Entertainment Blog: Star News Online

"[A] duo from Asheville, N.C. that blends cello and guitar to craft folk music with a 1970’s singer-songwriter feel in the vein of Joan Baez or Harry Nilsson. Together they make tender songs that feel like a warm homemade blanket." - Wilmington-area Arts and Entertainment Blog: Star News Online

"Melissa Hyman's cello also provides a groovy, dynamic presence, channeling sultry jazz swing on the down-to-earth ode "Diamonds," haunting folk-grass on "Baker's Daughter," and harmony-enriched folk-pop like the foot-tapping "Take Me With You." While Hyman holds down the hearty bottom end, Ryan Furstenberg's fingerstyle guitar does a soft-shoe over the top, allowing the tenderly plucked melodies to dance watercolor wisps that gently fade into each other. And the sonic yin-yang extends beyond their instruments. Fustenberg also possesses a booming, oaky baritone that plays nicely against Hyman's sweet girlish coo. The pair only started making music together a little more than a year ago, but since then they've released two live six-song EPs on BandCamp. At least a few tracks seem inspired by the pair's obvious chemistry and shared affection, recalling the intimate earnest spirit of fellow North Carolina couple-combo Bowerbirds." - The Charleston City Paper

"Their songs are heartfelt, but neither cloying nor saccharine." - The Mountain Xpress

"Their songs are heartfelt, but neither cloying nor saccharine." - The Mountain Xpress

"Their songs are heartfelt, but neither cloying nor saccharine." - The Mountain Xpress

Interview with Chelsea Lynn La Bate, aka Ten Cent Poetry

You said that the goal of your first full length - "Picking Through The Pawn Shop", was to take the songs that you had been doing individually and see what would happen when you collaborated with other people on them; after taking a step back from it, having some time to look at it, how do you feel it worked?

I'm truly pleased with the results. The learning curve was huge for me. Looking back it was so ambitious. I started with "the bones" of about 15 songs. Some I had been playing for years. Then I had to develop a language with the musicians who I invited in, with the producer, with the engineer. I spent endless days with my head set on. Walking around downtown. Drafting new versions in coffee shops. Writing and rewriting. Tweaking string parts. Taking out tambourines. The collaboration really happened between the producer and engineer and I. It was like making a big meal together.

Now, it's not really the first album you've released though, is it just the first at Ten Cent Poetry?

I was lucky enough to have other recordings made before this, but just me and guitar. Nothing produced. No conceptualization beyond the written words. They feel more like snapshots. Those were just Chelsea LaBate. Yes, this is Ten Cent Poetry. A larger umbrella.

Could you talk about the process you go through when writing a song?

I write all of the time. The poetry always first.The ideas are always floating around in my head, like a radio playing softly in the background. They bubble up while I'm driving, cooking, hiking, even performing.

For me, the true art is actually tucking the rest of life to the side, so that the writing has it's time.

You seem to play an awful lot live, and a lot in the town you are in, what keeps it fun for you?

There is no strategy needed for that. It's what I love. It's also my job. MY job. One that I have created. One that I came here to do. Other jobs came close but weren't specialized enough. They really could have been done by other people. Once I realized there was a chance that I could play music for a living, I went for it! That's why I play so much. Lots of little shows. Some medium. Sometimes big fancy ones. I'm playing in different places, but I'm my own boss. I have complete freedom. I've had 27 other jobs, all work that has been done to support my art. This job IS my art and it supports me. It's fun!

What song that you've written are you most proud of lyrically?

Hee. The Snail Song. Sometimes I sing that song and can't ever imagine writing it again. I wrote it while living in an ashram in NYC. I remember having the paper and trying hard to memorize the words. I couldn't wait to sing it for people. They were all so tickled.

You're a poet too, so what makes for exceptional poetry in your eyes?

Beautiful poetry. I like to be given images that bring me back to the beauty, the wonder of living life. I have to understand it, feel it. I want to be uplifted and transported.

Who are your favorite poets?

Recently Tony Hoagland. Mathew Rohrer. Two Contemporaries. Then always Pablo Neruda, Leonard Cohen, Hafiz, Sandra Cisneros.

Any additional words?

Yes. To other artists out there - MAKE YOUR ART. It's why you came. Keep your life simple so that you have time for it. Keep your costs low so that you're not doing the crazy chicken dance trying to keep up to maintain objects, robots, lifestyle. Take good care of your body so that you can enjoy the process. Protect yourself from emotional blood suckers. Develop routine. Clarify your intention. Celebrate your small victories. Activate your gratitude - Art is a job that pays in undercover ways - little golden coins that come in different shapes like spiritual nourishment, adventure, positive social binding, genuine appreciation from others. It's not always there in monetary form, but a payment is ALWAYS made, it's just a different field of payment. Soul payment. Do your work. It's a rich investment in your self and your future. - Alright, I'm Wrong

Asheville singer/songwriter Chelsea Lynn La Bate performs under the name Ten Cent Poetry. She’s an artist and that’s her prerogative, to call herself anything she wishes.

Take a stroll, however, through the debut Ten Cent Poetry album Picking Through the Pawn Shop. Every lyric is deeply–hued poetry of the most introspective sort – and it all leads directly to no one but Chelsea Lynn La Bate.

For someone who feels compelled to use a pseudonym, her songs are nakedly, candidly honest.

A Florida native, La Bate was trained as a visual artist, but after college spent four years in Brooklyn and the Lower East Side, honing her writing and performance skills on those fertile anti–folk stages.

Her smoky voice is challenging and compelling, in the childlike/wise manner of Regina Spektor, or Kimya Dawson of the Moldy Peaches.

This week’s performance at the Sentient Bean will feature La Bate, on guitar and vox, accompanied by cellist Melissa Hyman.

We spoke to La Bate this week – and here are a few things we learned about this complex and creative musician.

1. The lyrics always come first.

“I always did writing, but I was never one of those poets who read in front of people. I didn’t go to poetry slams. It was kind of a closeted thing. In high school, I had excellent English teachers and we studied poetry a lot. But who says ‘I’m going to be a poet’? It’s just something you do.”

2. The visual thing just wasn’t enough.

“I was hitting this wall in my painting. I felt like I wanted to say so much, and be so much more articulate than this image was really serving me. I had considered putting text in the imagery. And I’d have these gallery shows – I never knew who actually saw the paintings. There was kind of a missing link in the communication. There wasn’t enough of a dialogue for me.”

3. The name actually means something.

“When I was in New York, my musicianship was not phenomenal – I have a gift for melody and picking things out, but I was never a virtuoso on the guitar. It was the lyrics that the other people in the songwriting community would take note of. We’d make these little quarter–page flyers for our shows, and on the back I would hand–write a poem. People were excited to take the flyers because they knew they would get a new piece. The flyers were ten cent poetry – it was 10 cents per copy at the copy center, and you’d cut ‘em into four parts.”

4. Recording is a lot like painting.

“I wrote the string parts on a little kids’ keyboard, and then we’d record them in the studio – it would be this cheesy electronic–keyboard violin. And all the musicians were super–talented, so I’d just give the violinists a copy of the song, and they’d come in and play it. Slowly we’d replace all the electronic layers with the actual instrumentation. It was really cool, ‘cause I didn’t go to music school and here I am trying to do this huge project – and I don’t speak the language! I don’t know notes, but I can hear it and I can communicate it.”

5. The future’s so bright ...

“I want to make a living at it. And I am – I’ve been doing it full–time since September. Well, I did kind of do that before, but I was living out of my car. It was for eight or nine months a couple years ago, when I was really just starting out and leaving New York City. I want to make the live show bigger and better. On the road, it’s usually just me and Melissa, but at home in Asheville we’ll have a six–piece. So it’s a full string section. We’re incorporating local fashion designers, wearing their clothing, and for a big upcoming show we’re doing projections of local artists’ work. It’s a miniature circus.”

6. Music is all there is.

“At one point, I was like ‘You know, I can’t do all of this well.’ And at least with music, if I’m pushing hard, and I’m writing fresh material and I’m booking shows, at least there’s some income. Whereas with the drawing and the painting, people don’t have a need for it right now. I see my painter friends, and they’re having a hard time selling paintings. I feel like the music serves in a much better way. It serves me a lot.”

7. It’s a reciprocal thing.

“From the beginning, I was just having so much fun. I had such a high regard for people appreciating the work. It was like we were all sitting around and having this conversation based on the music, relating to one another. It just tickled me. It still does. It’s turning that process of observation, whether it’s on a microcosmic level or on a larger level, into songs. You know, ‘This is my life, this is the world.’ Bringing that to people.” - Savannah Connect

Asheville singer/songwriter Chelsea Lynn La Bate performs under the name Ten Cent Poetry. She’s an artist and that’s her prerogative, to call herself anything she wishes.

Take a stroll, however, through the debut Ten Cent Poetry album Picking Through the Pawn Shop. Every lyric is deeply–hued poetry of the most introspective sort – and it all leads directly to no one but Chelsea Lynn La Bate.

For someone who feels compelled to use a pseudonym, her songs are nakedly, candidly honest.

A Florida native, La Bate was trained as a visual artist, but after college spent four years in Brooklyn and the Lower East Side, honing her writing and performance skills on those fertile anti–folk stages.

Her smoky voice is challenging and compelling, in the childlike/wise manner of Regina Spektor, or Kimya Dawson of the Moldy Peaches.

This week’s performance at the Sentient Bean will feature La Bate, on guitar and vox, accompanied by cellist Melissa Hyman.

We spoke to La Bate this week – and here are a few things we learned about this complex and creative musician.

1. The lyrics always come first.

“I always did writing, but I was never one of those poets who read in front of people. I didn’t go to poetry slams. It was kind of a closeted thing. In high school, I had excellent English teachers and we studied poetry a lot. But who says ‘I’m going to be a poet’? It’s just something you do.”

2. The visual thing just wasn’t enough.

“I was hitting this wall in my painting. I felt like I wanted to say so much, and be so much more articulate than this image was really serving me. I had considered putting text in the imagery. And I’d have these gallery shows – I never knew who actually saw the paintings. There was kind of a missing link in the communication. There wasn’t enough of a dialogue for me.”

3. The name actually means something.

“When I was in New York, my musicianship was not phenomenal – I have a gift for melody and picking things out, but I was never a virtuoso on the guitar. It was the lyrics that the other people in the songwriting community would take note of. We’d make these little quarter–page flyers for our shows, and on the back I would hand–write a poem. People were excited to take the flyers because they knew they would get a new piece. The flyers were ten cent poetry – it was 10 cents per copy at the copy center, and you’d cut ‘em into four parts.”

4. Recording is a lot like painting.

“I wrote the string parts on a little kids’ keyboard, and then we’d record them in the studio – it would be this cheesy electronic–keyboard violin. And all the musicians were super–talented, so I’d just give the violinists a copy of the song, and they’d come in and play it. Slowly we’d replace all the electronic layers with the actual instrumentation. It was really cool, ‘cause I didn’t go to music school and here I am trying to do this huge project – and I don’t speak the language! I don’t know notes, but I can hear it and I can communicate it.”

5. The future’s so bright ...

“I want to make a living at it. And I am – I’ve been doing it full–time since September. Well, I did kind of do that before, but I was living out of my car. It was for eight or nine months a couple years ago, when I was really just starting out and leaving New York City. I want to make the live show bigger and better. On the road, it’s usually just me and Melissa, but at home in Asheville we’ll have a six–piece. So it’s a full string section. We’re incorporating local fashion designers, wearing their clothing, and for a big upcoming show we’re doing projections of local artists’ work. It’s a miniature circus.”

6. Music is all there is.

“At one point, I was like ‘You know, I can’t do all of this well.’ And at least with music, if I’m pushing hard, and I’m writing fresh material and I’m booking shows, at least there’s some income. Whereas with the drawing and the painting, people don’t have a need for it right now. I see my painter friends, and they’re having a hard time selling paintings. I feel like the music serves in a much better way. It serves me a lot.”

7. It’s a reciprocal thing.

“From the beginning, I was just having so much fun. I had such a high regard for people appreciating the work. It was like we were all sitting around and having this conversation based on the music, relating to one another. It just tickled me. It still does. It’s turning that process of observation, whether it’s on a microcosmic level or on a larger level, into songs. You know, ‘This is my life, this is the world.’ Bringing that to people.” - Savannah Connect

Asheville - From New York City to Asheville, one background of classical music and one of a painter combine to form the duo known as Ten Cent Poetry. Self-described as “mystical folk pop,” guitarist and lyricist Chelsea LaBate and cellist Melissa Hyman have been sharing with Asheville their beautiful and rich sound with a creative visual appeal.
Chelsea moved to New York City in hopes of finding a life as a painter. After being told her art would look good in children’s books, she turned to music. Having not been formally trained, she spent time perfecting her songs and learning the guitar on stages in New York City’s Lower East Side and Brooklyn. As her creative talents began to transfer through the music, Chelsea started attracting a following after entering and winning a number of songwriting competitions throughout the east. It was during this time that she made the move to Asheville and met up with Melissa, and the two began playing together in the fall of 2010.
Coming from New York herself, Melissa is a classically trained cellist as well as a singer and guitarist. She has toured extensively throughout the eastern United States and is sought after for studio work, collaborations, and events around the Asheville area.
In combining Chelsea’s award winning songs of human experiences and the fundamental styling of Melissa’s cello, Ten Cent Poetry forms a unique balance of artistry that is soft and thoughtful, and it is in their live performances that you see the duo at full potential. As they take the stage or even sit for an interview at the Botanical Gardens (UNCA), a playful atmosphere begins to form. Feathers or small hats are accessorized with specific pants or an eloquent but unique dress that give a stage presence full of creativity and individuality. Smiles, giggles and humorous stories are shared with the audience that brings about a youthful connection. You start to feel welcomed into their world where “art is like the universe” and “bands are like flowers.” They are not looking to label their sound or even their performance, as Chelsea jokingly said it was “an aardvark with a mohawk.”
Though many of their songs from the album Picking Through the Pawn Shop have what Chelsea described as possessing an “end of the world feel” (reflecting back on her time in New York City), her picking of the nylon strings on an Italian-made guitar and Melissa’s gentle motion of the bow, give it an upbeat and relaxing sound. Chelsea’s voice enhances the emotions behind the lyrics and music, capturing your attention and interest as it vibrates the air. When playing a show, Chelsea described it as being “the best part of the week.” Melissa added, “There’s a reason they call it playing.”
Ten Cent Poetry’s loose attitude even spills over into collaborations. At times you will find drummer David Fox accompanying the band, and other times they share the stage with local Asheville bands such as the Alex Krug Trio, with whom they play with regularly. Melissa referred to the idea as having a “retractable band.” When the two trios unite for a show, the stage is graced with a six string ensemble that includes a standup bass, violin, two guitars, and another vocalist. It is that willingness of bands to work together within the Asheville music scene that Chelsea and Melissa have grown fond of. Along with great venues and courteous people, they have found Asheville to be an ideal place to grow their musical and creative talents.
Although Chelsea doesn’t think of herself as a musician, it’s obvious that Ten Cent Poetry has an allure to it that keeps the audience growing and the two moving forward. They are currently touring the Southeast as much as possible, and with the New York influence now behind them, Ten Cent Poetry is looking forward to new projects and continuing to write “happy spring Asheville songs.” You can visit their website TenCentPoetry.com for a complete list of tour dates and samples of their music.
- NC Magazine33