Natalie Prass – My Baby Don’t Understand Me. Natalie Prass is the kind of artist Spacebomb was created for—a songwriter’s songwriter and performer’s performer blessed with a golden voice and universal appeal—a singer who understands the vision and brings an undeniable talent to the process. She’s a joy for any listener to discover—a lover and a fighter and old-soul trader in genuine energy, aiming straight for the heart. Prass turns a sly eye to the pageantry of emotion, the drama of love and the mysteries of everyday life with a disarming mixture of sincerity and cosmic insolence, unapologetically romantic, spinning golden threads of lyric and melody, each inflection and melisma planned and considered, each word tailored for meaning and effect—the pop gesture as artform. She delivers it all with carefree charm and nearly divine intuition.
Born in Cleveland, in the heart of the 1980s, Prass entered the teenage slipstream back on the east coast, past the haunted houses, surf shops, and burger joints of Virginia Beach, a mid-tier, rough-around-the-edges resort town. There is an inevitability to every biography, a myriad of strange narrative palm lines that twist and intersect, and she followed hers bravely to a seam of alternative beach culture, living close to the Atlantic Ocean but studying a less bronzed way of life. With her pet bird on her shoulder, she took intensive music and visual art courses all through high school. Going to a good music school was the next logical step, but after a year in cold, snowy Boston, Prass dropped out of Berklee and returned to the beach.
She spent a spell working and playing shows in boardwalk clubs before moving out to Nashville where she has spent close to the last decade developing her craft, collaborating with some of the better characters on the edges of Music City culture, building a reputation with her radiant voice, unique performances, and for being a bit of an iconoclast. Prass has carefully avoided the glossy singer-songwriter scene, reaching for something more interesting, more exciting. For her debut performance at Nashville’s storied Ryman Auditorium, she surprised fans by pulling off a guileless reggae set in front of an Isaac Hayes poster she had displayed behind her band.
Natalie Prass – My Baby Don’t Understand Me
When the time came to record a full length, Prass returned to Virginia to work with Spacebomb Records, a label able to realize big visions and lush productions within the rustic charm of its attic studio. The match made sense musically and her ties to Matthew E. White go back to playing in rock bands in their high school days. The two worked together, selecting nine tracks to run through Spacebomb’s creative machine. With hard work and the alchemy of circumstance, they crafted an unassuming masterpiece—a real stunner that sounds both thoroughly out-of-time and impossibly fresh. Prass is a powerful, beguiling performer and cunning pop composer—one for the moment and one for the ages.
Natalie Prass – My Baby Don’t Understand Me Lyrics:
I don’t feel much
Afraid I don’t feel anything at all
In the name of love
I keep those by
But I am no one
I’m stuck with this track
Even when the world has gone
Coming one step back at the time
Waiting for a reason to fall
Our love is a long goodbye
We keep waiting for the train to cry
Because MY BABY DON’T UNDERSTAND ME
He doesn’t understand me and he know
Oh no, MY BABY DON’T UNDERSTAND ME anymore
Oh what do you do when that happens
Where do you go, when the only home that you know
Is with a stranger
And our love was young
We could make the whole world will crumble
Although with one word
He could turn it all the way around
(x2)
Our love is a long goodbye
We keep waiting for the train to cry
Because MY BABY DON’T UNDERSTAND ME
He doesn’t understand me and he know
Oh no, MY BABY DON’T UNDERSTAND ME anymore
Oh what do you do when that happens
Where do you go, when the only home that you know
Is with a stranger
(x2)
Our love is a long goodbye
Our love is a long goodbye
Our love is a long goodbye
Our love is a long goodbye
Waiting on the train, waiting on the train
Our love is a long goodbye
We keep waiting for the train to cry
Because MY BABY DON’T UNDERSTAND ME
He doesn’t understand me and he know
Oh no, MY BABY DON’T UNDERSTAND ME anymore
Oh what do you do when that happens
Where do you go, when the only home that you know
Is with a stranger
