If the waning days of 2016 have reminded us of anything, it’s that life is temporary. Despite her strong connection to the Force, Carrie Fisher wasn’t spared, and her mother Deborah’s glorious feeling while “Singing in the Rain” couldn’t last forever. While smoking packs a day will likely bring you closer to your ultimate fate, there might be something symbolic to bidding adieu to 2016 with one last cigarette. As you inhale, feel the pleasure and sorrow mix together as a representation of one year…and one lit stick.
The music world was particularly capricious in 2016. We lost greats like Prince, David Bowie and George Michael. All, however, wasn’t lost. Long-timer Neil Young and mega-star Norah Jones were just 2 of many to put out stellar new albums. We were introduced to exciting young artists like NAO and Tom Misch.
This brings us to Kennedi. Her “Last Cigarette” enters you like that same inhalation, smooth and sultry yet somehow unsafe. Its lyrics describe the familiar story of the girl who no longer loves the guy, yet they both hang onto the memory of that first kiss. Asked of the personal relevance, she says “there’s always a piece of whoever writes a song in their music.” The female protagonist, while passionate herself, clearly has the upper hand, which Kennedi describes as “that constant pattern of using someone for pleasure – just for yourself. Then they start having feelings…but you don’t.”
That’s pretty deep stuff from an 18 year-old. Originally from Spicer, Minnesota, Kennedi moved to Southern California to attend Cal State Long Beach, but has postponed her schooling to pursue her dream of a music career (don’t worry, she’s kept her credits for future use). Her brother, Alec, is her manager and her songs were produced by RJ Ferguson and Jeremy Lawrence.
Kennedi’s musical inspiration is drawn from Lana del Rey, as she described in our conversation.
She specifically credits the imagery in “Last Cigarette” to Lana’s Paradise album. “Dust on the lips of the glass” refers to both the love story and an allusion to addiction. Rather than drawing from personal experience, Kennedi spends “extra time working on the lyrics and poetry.”
One line in the song that originally caught my attention was the unexpected “non potrei mai amati.” In the context of the song, its translation from Italian would be “I could never love like you want me to love you,” which is another ding against the male protagonist. Kennedi professed a love of languages and a hope to incorporate them into future songs.
As for genre, she calls another of her songs, “You & I,” electronic pop. Upcoming on the remainder of her EP is “Unsee,” which she says is “very intimate and stripped down,” most likely classified as singer/songwriter. Though Kennedi doesn’t have plans to form a traditional band, she would like to incorporate friends Nate Shalmo and Tim King into her future music.
She described her big plans for 2017 and beyond, including the release of the EP and possibly some live shows.
“Last Cigarette” had just eclipsed 700,000 listens on Spotify at the time of this writing, and while I didn’t capture the count when I first reached out to her a mere week prior to speaking, I’m sure it was significantly less than that. In other words, those big plans could take her big places. Judging by the poise she displayed, the vibe of her music, and the inspiration she draws from one particularly successful artist, this household isn’t predicting much sadness by the time summertime 2017 rolls around.
A common theme on social media today is “good riddance to 2016,” but let’s not forget some of the good things it brought us. Whatever your opinion, you’ve been presented one option of what to be listening to, and what to be lighting as the year draws to a close on Saturday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to remind my kids that smoking can kill you.
