The rest of the band is still finishing its last song as Tamaryn walks off the stage. She’s walking toward us, strutting. And the crowd parts before her glassy stare, a stare partially hidden by stringy raven bangs. She’s dark. Sexy. Knee-high boots and red lipstick. We gape. In the street she might appear scary, but in this grungy venue, and after hearing her sing, she’s just plain sexy. And dark.
“I think I’m in love,” says photographer Peter Taras. And our companions — Sterling Spencer, Victor Pakpour and Tanner Rozunko — all share the same dazed grin.
New Zealand-born and San Francisco-dwelling Tamaryn (indeed, her real name) has been hypnotizing fans around the country with her latest album, The Waves. The nine-song LP features the washed-out, reverb guitar sounds of guitarist/producer Rex John Shelverton, and creates the ideal atmospheric canvas for Tamaryn’s soft, wistful voice. The same voice that lulled two surfers, two photographers and this writer into a blissful trance.
Strutting, she’s coming toward us. Closer. Closer. And then, without a look in our direction, Tamaryn — the obscure, sultry and hypnotic Kiwi — brushes past us and out the exit, the residual guitar fading from the speakers as she dissolves from sight. —Taylor Paul