"You might call Ms. Foster's eerie warbling old-fashioned, except that is evokes a scrambled past that exists only in her own vision: mountain songs that never were, spaced-out hybrids that never will be." —New York Times
When I listened to "There are Eyes Above" my own eyes began to well.
There is something familiar, yet frightening about her vibrato studded voice. Layered on top of meandering harps she sings as though she knew you when you were a child, and witnessed with you, your own ageing, and now has come to remind you that once upon a time you were more simple. Once upon a time you were a child, and she knows all of your secrets. But she would never hold them against you.
Based upon the comments that fill her myspace, Josephine brings this same swooping enchantment when she performs live. Her comments are mostly all from fans, most of whom are strangers, who leave virtual love notes to her and write about her with such glory, such gratitude. Somehow Josephine Foster knows every hidden dream, every relic of memory of her listeners and hides away there with them as she plays. With their soft words they thank her for bringing them to a place that only they thought they knew the existence of. A place they had not traversed in some time, until it was Josephine who led them there.
The comments are intermixed with art, drawings, paintings, and photography created by her listeners. Sometimes music can not be expressed with words, and only can be expressed with visions. Her fans that have no words leave her with these images. I too find it hard to put words to Josephine Foster. And so perhaps Josephine Foster is best described by the drawings of her many fans she has gathered across the globe. See drawing above.
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