In Concert: Natalie Prass
If you were to look at Natalie Prass, her presence is rather unassuming (svelte frame with a mop of dark locks). However, once she opens those lips – dear me, a flood of soul comes spilling out.
The Virginian native commences her set softly and sweetly. Strapped around her is a guitar that nearly rivals her in size.
The back-room chatter at the Horseshoe Tavern does little to damper Prass’ mood. She banters with the crowd, recounting Janet Jackson’s recent show in Chicago to her quest for a singular “Toronto anthem.”
Once we get past the minor distractions of crowd noise and monitor hiccups, it is futile not to be enthralled by Prass’ swagger. She evolves it subtly onstage from folksy strummer to torch pleading wild flower.
The Virginian native commences her set softly and sweetly. Strapped around her is a guitar that nearly rivals her in size.
The set-list, which is mainly of her stellar self-titled debut (minus the string-and-horn-heavy instrumentations), bursts with passion. The night’s high-point is with ““My Baby Don’t Understand Me” (an album stand-out). The captive audience rouses into a lullaby singalong that leaves even Prass speechless.
Bookending her set with a stirring rendition of “Why Don’t You Believe” Prass gestures her appreciation to the engaged Toronto crowd like you would expect any Virginian to do: With a glass of whiskey in hand.