I met Regina Spektor about five months ago. My cousin and I were sitting in her living room, and she’d asked me if I’d heard of this folkie female artist. I hadn’t, but luckily, my cousin’s iPod was close by. After she played me “Eet,” I was hooked.
Spektor is associated with the anti-folk movement in New York’s East Village. The Russian-born and American-raised artist writes her own lyrics, which read like found poems —bits of conversation overheard on the subway, or strange inverted clichés—all delivered in Spektor’s sharp and striking voice.
What I like best about Regina Spektor: her music draws from and converses with a wealth of cultural iconography and classical narratives, especially evident in her heartbreakingly beautiful “Samson.”