Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Sound engineering by Patrick Stolley
She'll admit that she's often been mistaken for the American actress, in name and sometimes in looks, but Kate Walsh the English singer and songwriter needn't be mistook as someone with confidence in love or with any sort of clarity as to what those pulling the love strings are asking for. She can't so much answer their demands as she can't even make out their demands above the din and the clanging white noise. Without any doubt, Walsh is made to feel like an amateur whenever it comes to matters of the heart - and this is almost a compliment, as she's someone who sounds as if she's practiced up on the subject and its execution, and there are far many more who are made to look much worse in their interactions with the emotion. To be called an amateur in these lights is to at least be afforded some minor credibility. You've at least been attempting to figure the ridiculousness out. Walsh has a gorgeous one-track mind that gets entirely fascinated upon loving and leaving and the various misperceptions that occur between the holy space separating two unfamiliar people, as their eyes meet and then decide if that eye contact is enough to cause a reaction or an encounter. She is unable to bring herself to thinking about anything but the man she has, the man who doesn't know she loves him and the idea that all of it is as brittle and ephemeral - so close to abandonment or lifelessness that it alone is heartbreaking. We've seen Walsh in person, you perhaps in Internet photographs, and she's a lovely woman - pretty in a classic and almost Victorian way. This has nothing to do with physical looks, however. Even if she was a faceless and invisible person, in hearing her sing the things that she sings in these sweet and shaken acoustic odes, you'd never want to leave her side. You'd never want to leave her in a million years for the love that she describes so effusively and so enchantingly is that of which wedding vows are build around - that which is unbreakable and binding, an everlasting sort of glue to another soul. There's partnership and fellowship and deeply rooted amour. These are crystallized, sparkling eyes gazing into two others and hands that always seem to migrate softly into another hand to lock as they walk. It's as is the most damaging or demanding spring is in the air and there's a very real chance that the dance of love is going to be fractured and kind of a mind-scramble. In the air, with the blooming lilacs and the apple tree buds, is a scent of quivering impermanence, of rough odds. Walsh portrays these natural instincts and hesitations with a soothing ease and alacrity, as if their potential bust - however disconcerting as it might turn out to be - is a thrilling potentiality. She seems to possess a willingness to approach and encounter these instances of emotional investment knowing that the resultant effects will be notable no matter what they are. Her words in songs such as "Light and Dark" and "Tonight" are so tip of the tongue, burning like a shy candle, making a sensuous breathe on the nape of a neck. They are tame and hot and like the simple words that Jennifer O'Conner writes, remind us that we all know next to nothing about how to express our own feelings because this is how it's supposed to be done. This is how love sounds without any clothes on - embarrassed and proud.