Magic, Grief and Rhyme

A glimpse into the circus of Leah Valentine

When Leah Valentine performs, you sense that she is sharing something with you — something personal, vulnerable and valuable. 

In her most recent single, “Mother’s Day,” she sings with a blend of irony and truth: “I just ate a cheese Danish at your gravestone / Wished there was somewhere to sit / Feels kind of awkward just standing / But I like the plot we picked.”

Valentine, 24, who is based in Beacon, has a monthly gig at Yobo in Newburgh. Often wearing a pair of bloomers straight out of the Victorian era, she is not your average singer-songwriter. “How’s everyone’s food going?” she asked at a recent show. “Yum!” and “So good!” came the responses from spectators. “Good, good,” Valentine replied. “Good, good, good. I’m going to make you cry in it.” 

The singer credits the offbeat poet Shel Silverstein and her late mother for inspiration in life and music. “There was something genuine and special about her — she was very authentic,” Valentine says of her mother, who died in 2020. “That’s something I’ve wanted to embody in my creative life, and just life, as itself.”

We met at Big Mouth Coffee Roasters in Beacon. Valentine’s responses have been edited for brevity.

When did you start writing songs?
I’ve always had a singing thing going on, always written songs, always had a fascination with poetry. I love that the order you put words in — how they rhyme or complement each other, or choosing a specific word that could mean the same thing but sounds prettier — can make a huge difference. I’ve started thinking of it recently in a more nuanced way, probably because I’m diving into music as my life. 

Do you write songs for yourself or because you have something to share?
It changes. It’s always a reflection of the process that I’m going through, and right now that is authenticity and humanness. That’s why I post my breakdowns on social media. We have to be in that space sometimes, as low as we can get, to realize, “Something’s not working, let’s reassess.”

What ideas inspire you?
I’m inspired by life, and where I’m at in mine — digging deep, facing different parts of myself. My songs usually start out as poems or stream-of-consciousness. Sometimes a melody will come along. I get bored easily and so it’s important, if I’m going to listen to it over and over, that it stimulates my brain and can potentially stimulate other people’s brains. I still feel very much at the beginning of my recording journey and this whole journey. 

Your songs are reflective but also goofy. Why is that?
I’ve always just enjoyed the ha-ha’s. My mother’s illness started when I was 12 or 13, and she passed when I was 20. That was such a hard time. My first few songs were me meekly saying, “Help! I can’t … but I need to … but I can’t.” There was an element of playfulness in them, which was my way of getting through it. I’ve been connecting with a circus-y vibe these days because it incorporates tragedy and humor. It’s making fun of life. We put meaning on things and we don’t always have to. 

What do you like about performing?
It’s good practice for accepting myself. I love having a collective experience with the audience. There have been shows where I finish and get down on myself. That’s just the artist’s experience. I have to be like, “If I choose to live this artist’s life, I’m going to go through that experience.”

You talk openly about your grief, which is unusual.
I’m happy to talk about hard stuff in general. It feels right to me. We humans feel uncomfortable so much of the time that breaking that ice can make you feel seen. We’re all going through stuff, so if someone can flat out say it you’re like, “Oh, we can say that? We’re allowed to go there?” I’m weirdly grateful for the experience with my mom. Of course, I wish it didn’t happen and I can’t change it, but I know now what hard life looks like. And I got through it. I can now see, while acknowledging the heartbreak and grief and ugliness, the beauty in that experience. Coming out on the other side is empowering.

Yobo is located at 1297 Route 300 in Newburgh. See yoborestaurant.com or call 845-564-3848. Valentine’s next performance is scheduled for Aug. 16. Her songs can be streamed on Spotify (bit.ly/leah-valentine) and updates are posted at instagram.com/ladyleahvalentine.