Rest as a Sacred Manifestation: A Review on Kamra’s Debut EP “Verdant Banks”

Photo by Tonje Thilesen

Photo by Tonje Thilesen

Kamra’s EP verdant banks is a healing space with imagined green trees and a soft sky, embodying rest in a visceral sonic form. The first time I listened to the album, I was taken into 5 visions of self-love and respite, each song a serenading, surround sound portal immersed in this stunning world that Kamra has created. I felt at peace, even brought to tears, by the way I was guided through this somatic experience filled with melodic vocals, sax, guitar, keys and other instrumentals all flowing in and out of smooth companionship with one another. 

Each track is 3 minutes and 33 seconds long, beginning with “flicker, fire, flame.” The song starts with a ritualistic spoken word offering, then slowly turns into an acoustic-lead piece symbolizing the free-form dancing of a flame itself, eventually following the melody into a lyrical “higher, higher, higher” -- a consistent pattern throughout the record, the repetition of words with a crescendo effect to emphasize their importance as a feeling — a manifestation. 

The record then quietly transitions into “hear my no”, a song that turns the daunting word “no” into something effervescent and flowing -- a beautiful homage to respecting the self, without the harsh fear attached to setting and upholding boundaries. “No” becomes the wind, ricocheting off Kamra’s gentle and all-encompassing vocals.

The album continues to be in a hazy, dream-like imagined state with the melodies light, and Kamra’s voice reverberating in its strong yet simultaneously soft caress. The music and their voice are flowers blooming alongside each other, the wind slowly swaying them. “Deep hunger, fed” has a slight shift with additional computer generated beats, embracing the keys and guitar, in perfect synchronicity. Kamra sings “deep hunger / fed” over and over again until they reach a vocal peak with the word “fed” that feels like finally getting to the top of a snowy mountain and sledding blissfully down it. The song leaves you feeling nourished and full. 

Kamra then brings us into “Spill” -- an ongoing release. As they sing “Silence, my dear old friend”, the guitar follows their voice, a waterfall of epiphany, they continue, “So I spill over and over / caught up in cycles of closure.” 

Kamra ends the record with a reckoning, welcoming us into the space that has been in formation this entire time -- “I’m giving into a house on the corner of a lake near here / all my love is dear / come closer have no fear.” This song feels like an arrival, the saxophone serenades us into the reminder that “life’s so fast / I won’t let it pass me by.” It is a repeated affirmation, a blessing peacefully ending with closure.

This record is everything I needed in a time of transformation and transitions, a sense of loss & grief and ongoing disillusionment with this current reality. I have listened to it so many times already, using it as a prayer and a reset to the mind, letting it meditate me into my own imagined world of comfort and solace. Kamra has gifted us with a record that is a tool to access hope, deep love & rest for not just the body, but the eternal soul. 

You can purchase Kamra’s record here
& listen to it on wherever you stream your music.

Hooligan Magazine