Eva Schubert
Eva Schubert is a singer and songwriter based in Vancouver, Canada. Inspired by jazz greats like Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, and Nina Simone, blues icons like Etta James, and — perhaps improbably — Leonard Cohen, she writes in a diverse range of styles.

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Wordless

You leave me wordless Raising worn out phrases like broken bowls From the well within Poor riven fragments, dripping and empty From a place purer—deeper in me Than anything I’ve known Even to look at you Sometimes...

Notebooks everywhere

                    I have notebooks everywhere.  There is one I carry in my bag as I am out doing my errands.  Another sits on my work desk.  Still others lurk on the...

Voodoo Magic: Story of a Shoot

I just released the music video for my song “Voodoo Magic Man”, and I can’t quite believe we pulled it off. Getting to the finished product was a long series...

The Making of “Sweet Dreams”

Some projects you plan, and others just creep up and attack from behind. You never can tell what is going to work. If you are familiar with my music at all,...

Smile when your heart is breaking

One of my favorite songs is Nat King Cole’s version of “Smile”. I first heard it as a little girl, and it made a big impression. It wasn’t until I...

Grandpa’s Vinyl

I grew up listening to classic jazz. It was really all my grandfather’s fault. He had an infectious love of this music, and when he put those vinyl records on...

Curtains

  Let’s not pick out curtains Life’s moved us too far To think of shared addresses Or quarrels in the car There are too many pieces Now to rearrange But if I tell you this Will you think...

The Man Who Isn’t There

Well you’ve driven me to music I hope you’re satisfied I’m drunk on a longing That will always be denied I write these songs like sonar Or stones into a well I’m looking for an echo But...

Voodoo Magic Man

I got a fever Can’t clear my head All I want to do Is crawl back into bed I called the doctor But he didn’t have a plan The only one left to call Is the voodoo...

Bring on the Blues

There’s always blood on the leaves When they cut sugar cane No pleasure’s ever offered Without a taste of pain You’ll always be alone Unless you open up your door But when the guest is gone The...