At no point does her music adhere to one specific genre or mode
\nAnd her lyrics seem to dance around in western wear
\nCareful not to step on the raw, bluesy pace of the bassline
\nThe steely whine of the electric guitar penetrates the song
\nHer sound, as she describes it, is \u201cUrban Cowgirl,\u201d
\nBut none of the urban cowgirls that I have heard
\nWho can get down on dirty blues riffs quite like Angie does.
\nIf you were to close your eyes and imagine the neon lights of a bar sign,
\nThat is Angie Atkinson\u2019s music.<\/p>\n
The lyrics and her vocal range elevate the sound out of the bar
\nAnd reintroduce it to the mainstream in a way that suggests
\nThat it was never really all that far away to begin with.
\nHer words create not only an emotional landscape
\nbut a physical landscape, as well
\nComplete with sounds, sights, and smells.
\nWordplay streams from her lips like ewers overflowing
\nWith expressions of self-doubt and vulnerability,
\nWhich by their very admission only reinforce
\nThe strength and the resilience of their author<\/p>\n
Attempts to direct the listener, she taunts you with her success
\nAnd her ability to focus on astounding poetry and a powerful voice
\nPresented in such a passionate and progressive dialect,
\nThat is both familiar and foreign at the same time
\nHer prose is rampant with subtext and backstory
\nAdding that extra dimension.<\/p>\n
She creates a shadow box through which her music shines.
\nThe shadows cast on the walls of the listener\u2019s mind
\nAnd stir deeply in their hearts.
\nAt no point does Angie miss a beat
\nOr an opportunity to make an emotional connection
\nWith you, me, we, the audience, at Large.
\nHer edgy, provocative words seem carefully selected
\nAs perhaps only the daughter of a Reverend could,
\nThere is no other gem to have ever inspired me
\nTo create and let my passion go free
\nBecause she is a perfect example
\nOf strength, and vulnerability, and talent<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
At no point does her music adhere to one specific genre or mode And her lyrics seem to dance around in western wear Careful not to step on the raw, bluesy pace of the bassline The steely whine of the electric guitar penetrates the song…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":206,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13667","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13667","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/206"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13667"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13667\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13682,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13667\/revisions\/13682"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13667"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13667"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13667"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}