The joint is crowded on a Sunday evening. A host of friendly faces are here to greet a daughter who has returned home. She goes by the name of Sy Smith.
A camouflage mini skirt. High-heeled black boots draped in the silver shimmer of black leg warmers. The pride of Africa wrapped on her wrist. Sy Smith has a smile that along with her charming wit lights up the stage. Her unique and captivating sound is the icing on the cake.
My first lesson in Syberspace is a declaration against the materialism that sometimes plagues relationships. In it, Sy strongly proclaims that she doesn???t need a man to buy her things. She jokes that her father, who sits proudly in the audience, can do that for her. ???That???s right baby girl,??? he replies.
Our ears are further blessed with some vintage Sy including the songs ???Star 69??? and ???I???m a Hard Act to Follow.???
Sy???s music is a jazzy groove you never want to end. I found myself chair dancing throughout the night as a lot of other people were doing.
Then, all of a sudden a few souls braved the dance floor, overcome by the infectious jam ???Back on You,??? which Sy described as gut-bucket funk. In just a few minutes, she has turned the inhibited uptight room into a house party among old friends. We danced the rest of the night away entranced in the cosmic vibe that is Syberspace.