Echoline Magazine - Miss Freddye and MTS group honor Mike Lyzenga’s legacy with soul-stirring new si

Miss Freddye shares "Slippin' Away," a moving blues ballad in memory of Mike Lyzenga. It captures the painful feeling of love slowly fading, offering listeners a deeply emotional experience that lingers long after the last note. "Slippin' Away" is a story about loss, memory, and thinking about the past. The lyrics by Mike Lyzenga are the most important part of the song, but Miss Freddye's interpretation adds depth and feeling to the story. Her soulful delivery brings the touching words to life in a way anyone who has ever lost love can understand.

Miss Freddye put a lot of time and effort into putting the single together. It balances raw blues feeling with pleasing musicality, giving each note and lyric room to breathe. People will notice how close the recording is, how warm the instruments sound, and how real the performance is. It pays tribute to its roots while showcasing Miss Freddye's talent.

"Slippin' Away" is a moving reminder of how music can capture fleeting feelings and keep them forever, whether you've been a blues fan for a long time or are just getting into it. Miss Freddye and MTS Management Group ensure Mike Lyzenga's words keep moving people with this release. It gives them a place to think about, remember, and feel every moment of love's tender passage.

https://www.echolinemagazine.com/2026/04/miss-fredye-and-mts-group-honor-mike.html

Original Rock - Miss Freddy’s ‘Slippin Away’ – A Modern Blues Ballad Rooted in Tradition

Miss Freddye’s Slippin’ Away is the kind of blues recording that reminds you how much can be said with restraint, timing, and a deep understanding of the form. There are no fireworks here—no extended solos or studio trickery—but what you do get is a carefully shaped performance that draws on decades of blues and gospel tradition.

A veteran of the Pittsburgh scene, Miss Freddye has spent years honing her voice in clubs, festivals, and church settings, and that experience shows. Her singing carries a natural authority, the kind that comes from working in front of live audiences rather than relying on studio polish. On Slippin’ Away, she delivers a vocal that is both controlled and emotionally direct, letting the lyric unfold at its own pace.

The song, written by the late Mike Lyzenga, follows a classic blues theme: the slow unraveling of a relationship. Structurally, it’s straightforward, but that simplicity works in its favor. The focus remains on phrasing and feel—two elements that have always defined the best blues performances. Miss Freddye approaches the lyric with a measured delivery, emphasizing clarity over embellishment. She doesn’t push the emotion; she lets it surface naturally.

The instrumental backing is equally disciplined. Guitarist Mike Huston plays with economy, favoring sustained notes and subtle bends over flash. His tone is warm and slightly rounded, sitting comfortably behind the vocal while still adding emotional color. There are moments where his phrasing echoes classic electric blues styles, but he avoids direct imitation, keeping the performance grounded in the present.

Jeff Conner’s keyboard work brings in a gospel sensibility, using soft organ textures to fill out the arrangement without crowding it. The rhythm section—Greg Sejko on bass and Bob Dicola on drums—locks into a steady groove that supports the song without drawing attention to itself. This is a band that understands the importance of space, and they use it effectively.

Production-wise, the track is clean and uncluttered. Miss Freddye, who produced the session, keeps the mix balanced and natural. There’s a noticeable absence of overdubs or unnecessary effects, which allows the performance to come through with clarity. It’s a reminder of how effective a straightforward recording can be when the musicians are in sync and the material is strong.

One of the most compelling aspects of Slippin’ Away is its sense of continuity with earlier blues traditions. The song doesn’t attempt to modernize the genre or fuse it with other styles. Instead, it draws on established forms and lets interpretation carry the weight. That approach places it in line with a long history of blues recordings where individuality emerges through nuance rather than innovation.

Miss Freddye’s vocal is the focal point throughout. On lines like “I feel you slipping through my hands,” she uses subtle changes in dynamics and timing to convey emotion. It’s a technique that reflects years of experience and an intuitive grasp of the material.

Slippin’ Away may not redefine the blues, but it doesn’t need to. What it offers is a well-executed, deeply felt performance that respects the tradition while keeping it alive in the present.

–Jason Bechtold

https://originalrock.net/2026/03/31/miss-freddyes-slippin-away-a-modern-blues-ballad-rooted-in-tradition/

Stars of US - Miss Freddye’s Slippin’ Away and the Persistence of the Blues Voice

Miss Freddye’s Slippin’ Away occupies a space that I’ve often identified as central to the blues tradition: the meeting point between personal testimony and communal form. It is not an ambitious record in terms of structure or innovation, but it is deeply rooted in the expressive language that has sustained blues music for over a century. In that sense, its significance lies less in what it attempts to change than in what it preserves.

Freddye Stover, known professionally as Miss Freddye, emerges from a regional circuit—Pittsburgh and the surrounding areas—that has long supported working blues musicians outside the more widely documented Southern and urban centers. Like many artists shaped by church and community, her vocal approach reflects a synthesis of gospel phrasing and secular blues storytelling. This dual inheritance is audible throughout Slippin’ Away, where the phrasing suggests both lament and endurance.

The song itself, written by Mike Lyzenga, follows a familiar thematic trajectory: the gradual dissolution of intimacy. The lyric avoids specificity, relying instead on the archetypal imagery that has long defined blues poetry—loss rendered as something tactile, slipping beyond one’s grasp. This reliance on convention is not a limitation so much as a framework within which interpretation becomes paramount. As I’ve observed in my writing, the blues often derives its power not from novelty, but from the individuality of its performance.

That individuality is evident in Freddye’s vocal delivery. She resists the ornamental excess that characterizes some contemporary blues recordings, opting instead for a measured, almost conversational tone. There is a sense that the song unfolds in real time, with each phrase shaped by breath and feeling rather than predetermined effect. This approach aligns with earlier vocal traditions, where timing and inflection carried as much weight as melody.

The instrumental arrangement supports this aesthetic. Mike Huston’s guitar work is restrained, drawing on a vocabulary of bends and sustained notes that recall postwar electric blues without directly imitating it. Jeff Conner’s keyboard contributions introduce a subtle gospel coloration, reinforcing the emotional undercurrent without overtaking the performance. The rhythm section—Greg Sejko on bass and Bob Dicola on drums—maintains a steady, unobtrusive pulse, emphasizing continuity over dynamic variation.

Production, handled by Freddye herself, reflects a conscious decision to foreground the vocal narrative. The recording avoids excessive layering, allowing space within the mix for the interaction between voice and instrument. This clarity recalls earlier recording practices, where the goal was not to construct a sonic environment but to document a performance.

What Slippin’ Away ultimately reveals is the continued viability of the blues as a form of personal expression. In an era when the genre is frequently reframed through commercial or hybridized contexts, Freddye’s approach remains grounded in its original function: to articulate emotional experience in a direct and unembellished manner. The song does not seek to expand the boundaries of the blues, but it does affirm its enduring capacity to convey meaning.

In this respect, Slippin’ Away stands as a modest but compelling example of the tradition’s persistence, an instance of the blues not as revival, but as ongoing practice.
–Bobby Palmieri

https://starsofus.com/miss-freddyes-slippin-away-and-the-persistence-of-the-blues-voice/

MusicAlive - Miss Freddye Delivers Heart and Soul on “Slippin’ Away”

And now, we turn to a voice that’s been carrying the spirit of the blues for decades—Miss Freddye. Known around Pittsburgh and beyond as the “Lady of the Blues,” she’s built her career on authenticity, heart, and a deep connection to the roots of American music. With her latest single, “Slippin’ Away”, she reminds us that sometimes the simplest stories are the ones that stay with us the longest.

“Slippin’ Away” is a slow-burning blues ballad, written by the late Mike Lyzenga, and brought to life here with a quiet intensity. From the very first note, you can feel the mood settle in—this is a song about love fading, about trying to hold on to something that’s already beginning to slip through your fingers. It’s a theme we’ve heard before, but in Miss Freddye’s hands, it feels personal, immediate, and real.

Her voice is the centerpiece, and for good reason. There’s a warmth to it, a richness that comes from years of experience—both on stage and in life. She doesn’t rush the story. Instead, she lets each line unfold naturally, giving the listener time to absorb every word. When she sings, “I feel you slipping through my hands,” you believe her—not because she’s telling you to, but because she’s lived it.

Backing her up is a band that understands the power of restraint. Mike Huston’s guitar work is tasteful and expressive, adding just the right amount of emotion without overwhelming the vocal. Jeff Conner’s keyboards bring in a subtle gospel flavor, a nod to the spiritual roots that have long influenced Miss Freddye’s style. Greg Sejko on bass and Bob Dicola on drums provide a steady, unshakeable foundation, keeping the song grounded while allowing it to breathe.

What really stands out about “Slippin’ Away” is its simplicity. In a world where so much music is layered, processed, and polished to perfection, this track takes a different path. Produced by Miss Freddye herself, it feels honest and unfiltered. There’s space in the arrangement—space for the instruments, space for the vocal, and most importantly, space for the listener to connect with the emotion at the heart of the song.

Miss Freddye’s journey as an artist is an important part of this story. She’s spent years performing, recording, and keeping the blues alive in her community. Influenced by gospel and traditional blues, she’s developed a style that’s both timeless and deeply personal. “Slippin’ Away” is a reflection of that journey—a song that doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel, but instead reminds us why the wheel keeps turning.

And that’s the beauty of the blues. It’s not about complexity—it’s about truth. It’s about taking a feeling we all recognize and giving it a voice. With “Slippin’ Away”, Miss Freddye does exactly that.

So as this song fades out, it leaves behind something lasting—a feeling, a memory, maybe even a moment of reflection. And in the end, that’s what great music is all about.

–Kasey Smack

https://musicalive.net/en/comunicato/miss-freddye-delivers-heart-and-soul-on-slippin-away/

Indie hub Magazine - “Slippin’ Away” by Miss Freddye

When Love Slips Through Your Fingers

There’s something undeniably raw about “Slippin’ Away” by Miss Freddye. It doesn’t just play through your speakers — it settles into your chest. From the very first line, you can feel the weight of uncertainty hanging in the air, that quiet ache of watching something beautiful slowly unravel.

Miss Freddye’s voice is the heart of this track. Rich, seasoned, and gloriously unfiltered, she sings like someone who has lived every word. When she wonders, “I don’t know where we’re goin’,” it doesn’t sound rhetorical — it sounds like a late-night confession. There’s grit in her tone, but also tenderness, a balance that blues at its best always delivers.

The instrumentation wraps around her vocals with subtle strength. The guitar lines weep softly, the keys hum with warmth, and the rhythm section keeps everything grounded, like a steady pulse beneath a breaking heart. Nothing feels overdone. Every note leaves room for the emotion to breathe.

What makes “Slippin’ Away” truly powerful is its sincerity. It’s not dramatized heartbreak; it’s the slow, painful realization that love is fading despite your best efforts. Miss Freddye turns that universal fear into something soulful and strangely comforting.

This isn’t just a blues ballad — it’s a reminder of why the blues exists in the first place.

https://indiehubmag.com/slippin-away-by-miss-freddye/

The Big Indie - REVIEW: Miss Freddye – Slippin’ Away

Anchored in tradition yet shaped by personal loss, “Slippin’ Away” finds Miss Freddye delivering a blues ballad that feels grounded and sincere. The instrumentation is classic and uncluttered. Mike Huston’s guitar lines lean into expressive bends and sustained phrases that echo the song’s theme of fading connection. Jeff Conner’s keys add a gentle, soulful cushion, while Greg Sejko’s bass and Bob Dicola’s drums provide a steady rhythmic foundation that keeps the track measured rather than heavy. Every instrument serves the mood, reinforcing the slow burn of the arrangement.

As a composition, the song unfolds with patience. Written by the late Mike Lyzenga, its structure allows the verses to breathe before resolving into a refrain that circles back to uncertainty and emotional drift. The repetition of lines such as “I don’t know where we’re goin’” underscores confusion without overcomplicating the message. The arrangement resists dramatic swells, instead relying on dynamic restraint to mirror the gradual unraveling described in the lyrics.

Production, handled by Miss Freddye and recorded at Red Caiman Media in Pittsburgh, emphasizes clarity and balance. The mix places her voice front and center without isolating it from the band. There is warmth in the recording, preserving the intimacy of a live blues performance while maintaining professional polish.

On stage, this track would likely resonate deeply. Its steady tempo and conversational phrasing invite listeners to lean in rather than simply observe. Miss Freddye’s delivery carries conviction shaped by years in the blues tradition, making the story feel lived rather than performed.

Lyrically, “Slippin’ Away” reflects the slow realization of love fading. The language is direct and relatable, allowing the ache within the song to settle naturally, leaving a quiet but lasting impression.

https://thebigindie.com/review-miss-freddye-slippin-away/

Blazemuse - Miss Freddye commands the blues with grace in the new single “Slippin' Away”

Miss Freddye is back with a new single called "Slippin' Away," which is honest, weathered, and lived-in. She is known as Pittsburgh's Lady of the Blues, and she brings all of her fame to this song, which is a slow-burning meditation on love slipping through one's fingers. This tune is the most personal kind of blues storytelling, where control and raw emotion go hand in hand.

The song builds slowly, giving emotions room to breathe. The main part of the song is Miss Freddye's voice, which has a sense of sadness and reflection that never feels forced. She lets each line of the song hang in the air, pulling the listener deeper into the pain of being apart and remembering. It feels like she's singing the song directly to the listener instead of performing it for them.

The musicians around her give her a steady, tasteful base. Mike Huston's guitar playing adds a little spirit and warmth, and Jeff Conner's keys softly change the mood. The bass by Greg Sejko and the drums by Bob Dicola keep everything together with a steady, unshowy groove that helps the song instead of competing with it. Every note feels like it was meant to be there, adding to the emotional core without getting in the way.

"Slippin' Away" is also a heartfelt tribute to the late Mike Lyzenga, which gives the song even more meaning and sincerity. That feeling of remembering makes the song more meaningful, making it feel like it speaks to everyone. Miss Freddye shows once more that the real power of the blues comes from being honest, open, and emotionally honest in "Slippin' Away." This song sticks with you long after the last note has faded.

https://www.blazemuse.com/2026/02/miss-freddye-commands-blues-with-grace.html

Basement Echos - Slippin’ Away by Miss Freddye

Opening with a classic blues palette, Slippin’ Away places guitar, keys, bass, and drums in a restrained conversation that favors feel over flash. Mike Huston’s guitar phrases respond patiently to Jeff Conner’s keys, while Greg Sejko and Bob Dicola keep a steady, human pulse beneath the song, with space carefully measured throughout the arrangement.

Rather than rushing its point, the composition unfolds at an unhurried pace, allowing the story to reveal itself gradually. Sections move with intention, repeating ideas just enough to underline meaning without excess. The arrangement mirrors love fading slowly, choosing patience instead of dramatic turns. Transitions remain smooth and emotionally consistent throughout the full song.

In production, clarity and warmth define the recording at Red Caiman Media. Miss Freddye’s own oversight keeps the mix honest, with vocals forward yet never overpowering. Each instrument occupies its space, and the balance supports intimacy rather than polish for its own sake. Room tone and dynamics remain natural throughout the entire performance session.

Live, the song suggests a setting where attention deepens rather than explodes. Its measured tempo and conversational playing invite listeners to lean in, following every pause and swell. The energy feels communal and reflective, built on shared listening instead of volume or speed. Such restraint often carries power onstage for blues audiences everywhere listening.

Lyrically, Slippin’ Away centers on uncertainty and loss, voiced through plainspoken lines like I don’t know where we’re goin’ and I don’t know where we’ve been. Written by Mike Lyzenga, the story feels lived in. Miss Freddye delivers it with acceptance, letting truth linger quietly. The result resonates without asking for sympathy from listeners.

https://basementechos.com/slippin-away-by-miss-freddye/

CAGUAMA MEDIO - Miss Freddye – Slippin' Away CM

La más reciente entrega de Miss Freddye es de esas piezas que te marcan a fuego, que te dejan una cicatriz imborrable, esta no es simple música, es un exorcismo emocional, un ritual catártico donde el dolor se transmuta en belleza.

"Slippin' Away" no es una balada complaciente, es un grito desgarrador que emerge desde las entrañas mismas del desamor, la voz de Miss Freddye, cual saeta envenenada, te atraviesa sin piedad, te arrastra a su torbellino de recuerdos amargos, a ese laberinto donde la nostalgia se confunde con la desesperación silenciosa y discreta, cubierta por suavidad y delicadeza, no hay artificios ni poses, solo la verdad tajante y pasiones extintas, este es un tema punzante que habla de quien ha amado con locura y ha perdido sin remedio.

La melodía vibrante y melancólica te mece suavemente mientras te desmoronas, se siente como si cada nota fuera una lágrima derramada y cada acorde un suspiro ahogado, la instrumentación, precisa y sutil, crea una atmósfera opresiva que te asfixia lentamente, que te impide escapar del embrujo de la canción.

"Slippin' Away" es un espejo donde se reflejan nuestras propias heridas, nuestras propias batallas perdidas. Es un recordatorio de que el amor, como la vida misma, es efímero y frágil. Pero también es una invitación a abrazar nuestra vulnerabilidad, a reconocer nuestra fragilidad y a encontrar la belleza en medio del caos.

Esta canción no es para oídos pusilánimes, es para aquellos que se atreven a sentir sin reservas, para aquellos que no temen sumergirse en las profundidades del alma, es un viaje iniciático a través del dolor, un peregrinaje hacia la sanación después de atravesar un averno emocional.

Miss Freddye no solo canta, exorciza sus demonios y, al hacerlo, nos libera a nosotros de los nuestros, "Slippin' Away" es una obra maestra, un legado para la posteridad, una canción que te estremece si te atreves a escucharla con el alma abierta.

https://www.caguamamedio.com/2026/02/miss-freddye-slippin-away-cm.html?m=1

Miss Freddye delivers a tribute to legacy with “Slippin’ Away”

“Slippin’ Away” is an emotional song about love that doesn’t break up all at once, but slowly slips away, and Miss Freddye’s voice is real, deep, and very much in the blues tradition. Produced by Miss Freddye and recorded at Red Caiman Media in Pittsburgh’s North Hills, this release is a sad blues ballad that focuses on being honest with your feelings rather than adding extra details.

Written by the late Mike Lyzenga in 2018, “Slippin’ Away” has a quiet sense of reverence that lets the story of fading love unfold naturally. Miss Freddye’s rendition respects the song’s origins while distinctly establishing her unique identity.

Her singing feels like each note was carefully chosen, and her delivery of emotion is raw, as if she is not just singing about loss but living it. The production supports this method by giving the emotion a clear, unobstructed background to work with.

“Slippin’ Away” is especially interesting because it strikes a good balance between paying tribute and being unique. Miss Freddye doesn’t think of the song as a fragile work of art to be kept behind glass, even though it is a heartfelt tribute to Mike Lyzenga’s writing. Instead, she brings it back to life, allowing the blues to turn pain into shared experience.

This piece stays unclear, which is like how it feels to see something important fade away. The song’s strength comes from its patience, which lets it stay with you for a long time, and “Slippin’ Away” is proof that the blues shows how real, strong, and brave it is to feel deep emotions.

https://upheremagazine.com/miss-freddye-delivers-a-tribute-to-legacy-with-slippin-away

Steel, Soul, and Survival: Miss Freddye and the Blues That Built Pittsburgh

In Pittsburgh, the blues doesn’t arrive as an import; it’s homegrown, shaped by mill smoke, river fog, and the stubborn optimism of a city that learned how to rebuild itself without forgetting where it came from. Few artists embody that lineage as fully as Miss Freddye, widely known—and rightly so—as Pittsburgh’s Lady of the Blues.

Freddye’s story isn’t one of overnight discovery or trend-chasing. It’s a long, lived-in narrative built from persistence, family, faith, and an unwavering commitment to telling the truth. She came to music through gospel, where emotion isn’t ornamental—it’s essential. That grounding never left her. When Freddye sings the blues, she doesn’t perform hardship; she testifies to it. Her voice carries the authority of someone who’s been there and came back with receipts.

Over the years, that honesty has translated into real success. Miss Freddye’s recordings have landed on blues charts, earning national recognition and radio play far beyond western Pennsylvania. Those chart hits weren’t engineered for crossover appeal; they resonated because listeners recognized something authentic in her delivery. In an era when blues is often treated like a museum piece, Freddye’s music feels current precisely because it refuses to polish away the grit.

Her career has unfolded in parallel with Pittsburgh’s own modern identity—a city that honors its working-class roots while carving out new cultural space. Freddye has become a fixture in that landscape, a constant presence at festivals, benefits, and community events, singing not just to the city but for it. She’s shared stages with respected names in blues and soul, but she’s just as committed to lifting up local musicians, reinforcing the idea that a scene survives through generosity as much as talent.

What sets Miss Freddye apart is how seamlessly her life feeds her music. She sings about love, loss, resilience, and joy with the clarity of someone who understands that survival is rarely glamorous. There’s humor in her performances, too—a wink, a laugh, a reminder that the blues isn’t only about sorrow but about endurance. That balance keeps her work grounded and human.

And then there’s Pittsburgh itself. Freddye doesn’t just represent the city; she belongs to it. She speaks about Pittsburgh with pride, not as a backdrop but as a character in her story. The neighborhoods, the people, the shared history—they all show up in her music, sometimes explicitly, often implicitly, always sincerely. In a business that encourages artists to chase larger markets, Freddye’s loyalty to her hometown feels quietly radical.

Miss Freddye’s legacy is still being written, but its foundation is already solid: chart success earned the hard way, a life fully lived, and a city that hears itself reflected in her voice. Pittsburgh didn’t just give her the blues—she gave the blues back, stronger, wiser, and unmistakably her own.

–Jarvis Landers

https://musicalive.net/en/comunicato/steel-soul-and-survival-miss-freddye-and-the-blues-that-built-pittsburgh/

VENTS MAGAZINE

The blues has never needed permission to survive. It endures because artists keep finding new ways to speak plainly about hard truths, joy wrestled from struggle, and the stubborn grace of everyday life. In 2025, the music is neither frozen in amber nor chasing trends. It moves forward by staying honest—by honoring tradition while letting present-day realities shape the sound. Across juke joints, theaters, churches, clubs, and festivals, a wide circle of artists continues to prove that the blues is not only alive, but essential.

In Pittsburgh, Miss Freddye remains a commanding force. Her voice carries the authority of lived experience, grounded in gospel fervor and sharpened by decades of stage time. She doesn’t perform the blues as a style; she testifies. Each song feels earned, each note delivered with the kind of conviction that turns community history into shared memory.

Down in Mississippi, Christone “Kingfish” Ingram continues to redefine what a modern blues guitarist can be. His playing is technically fearless but emotionally anchored, drawing from Delta roots while addressing a contemporary world. In 2025, Kingfish sounds less like a prodigy and more like a voice of his generation—confident, grounded, and unmistakably Southern.

Chicago’s influence still runs deep through the work of Toronzo Cannon, whose songwriting reads like short fiction from the factory floor. His music balances grit and wit, using classic blues structures to tell present-day stories of work, pressure, and perseverance. Cannon keeps the city’s blues lineage alive by treating it as a living language, not a museum piece.

Across the Atlantic, The Curse of KK Hammond channels the ghosts of pre-war blues into something strikingly original. Armed with slide guitar, foot percussion, and a voice that sounds pulled from a midnight ritual, Hammond’s music feels elemental. Her songs don’t modernize the blues so much as strip it back to its bones, reminding listeners how haunting and powerful the form can be when left unpolished.

https://ventsmagazine.com/2025/12/29/still-standing-still-singing-the-blues-in-2025/

THE WOMEN OF MTS: GLAM, GRIT, AND GAME-CHANGING MUSIC

Mainstream music loves to put women in boxes—pop princess, country sweetheart, indie darling. But MTS Records/MTS Management Group is busy setting those boxes on fire. Founded by Michael Stover, the label has become a magnet for women who won’t play by industry rules. These are artists who can rock rhinestones one night, rip your heart out the next, and still show up the morning after like nothing happened. They’re country storytellers, electro-goddesses, blues queens, and pop provocateurs. Together, they’re redefining what indie music looks—and sounds—like.

Take Alex Krawczyk. She’s like the friend who brings you tea after a messy breakup but also drags you out for sunrise yoga the next day. Her music has the warmth of a cashmere blanket and the soul of Laurel Canyon—folk, pop, and Americana stitched into a sound that heals as much as it entertains. Imagine Joni Mitchell with a Spotify algorithm glow-up. Alex isn’t just charting; she’s soothing the collective burnout of modern life. Her latest single is a tribute to the Grateful Dead, “Love Through Sound.”

Then there’s Ashley Puckett, Pittsburgh’s country siren with a voice that belongs somewhere between a honky-tonk jukebox and a Nashville awards stage. Inspired by Lee Ann Womack and Jo Dee Messina, she’s got the chops of a traditionalist but the confidence of someone who could roll her eyes at TikTok trends and still land a Top 80 hit. Her single “Anchor” nailed the emotional weight of love as strength, following up the tequila-soaked storytelling of “Tequila.” Ashley’s vibe is small-town charm with chart-ready polish, the kind of artist who could headline a county fair and then slay a CMA stage the same week.

For Arkansas duo Cliff & Susan, Susan Prowse is the not-so-secret weapon. Think piano-bar meets country festival, with Susan’s powerhouse vocals running the show. She’s got this effortless glam-meets-girl-next-door vibe, the kind of energy that makes fans feel like they’re part of the performance, not just watching one. Whether she’s live-streaming in sequins or singing her heart out on stage in boots, Susan is proof that being a boss doesn’t mean losing your sparkle. The duo’s latest single is “West Virginia.”

Angie McConnell of Eleyet McConnell brings a different kind of heat. She doesn’t just sing songs—she owns them, pouring grit, sweat, and soul into every note. Their award-winning single “Surrender” was the moment the world really caught on to her power. Angie’s vibe is part blues bar, part arena rock, and fully authentic. She doesn’t dress her truth up in metaphors—she sings it raw. Imagine Beth Hart swapping leather for fringe, and you’re close. Expect a new album from the duo in late 2025.

And then we have Elvira Kalnik, who is basically an avant-garde pop star beamed in from another galaxy. Born in Europe, based in the U.S., Elvira Kalnik is a one-woman creative hurricane—singer, producer, fashion designer, actor. Her music is electronic pop spiked with opera and jungle beats, and her visuals look like Alexander McQueen threw a rave in a cathedral. Her single “Water Knows” is more than a track—it’s a mood board, a runway, and a dance floor all colliding at once. Elvira Kalnik is proof that indie can be couture.

Miss Freddye, Pittsburgh’s Lady of the Blues, is all about soul with scars. When she sings, you hear every heartbreak, every triumph, every night she’s walked into a smoky bar and left it transformed. Her music is gospel-tinged blues with a side of grit, and her life offstage is just as powerful—advocating for veterans, lifting up her community, proving that artistry isn’t just about fame, it’s about service. If Adele had a godmother who survived everything and turned it into gold, it would be Miss Freddye.

The Curse of KK Hammond feels like a character from a gothic Western film, stepping straight out of the shadows with a guitar in her hand. A U.K. slide guitarist and songwriter, she’s reinvented Delta blues with a dark, cinematic twist. Her debut album Death Roll Blues earned chart love and critical praise, but it’s her whole aura—the wide-brim hat, the haunting imagery, the swampy swagger—that makes her unforgettable. KK Hammond is the kind of artist who could headline Coachella at midnight and have the crowd howling at the moon.

Then there’s Olivia Millin, the baby of the crew at just 20 years old, but don’t let the age fool you. She’s serving J-pop shimmer mixed with dance-pop bite, all wrapped up in visuals straight out of Harajuku. Her Halloween-inspired “Soul for the Taking” proved she’s unafraid to get weird—in the best way—combining sugary hooks with dark, cinematic flair. Olivia is Gen Z pop stardom personified: experimental, global, and immune to anyone’s expectations but her own.

Pamela Hopkins comes in swinging from Little Rock, the country firebrand who makes every stage feel like home turf. A multi-instrumentalist and powerhouse vocalist, she delivers heartbreak ballads with the same conviction as honky-tonk anthems. Her single “Walk of Honor” showed off the emotional grit that makes her stand out. Pamela’s live shows are rowdy, heartfelt, and real—country without the clichés, and all the more powerful for it. Check out her latest autobiographical hit, “Me Being Me.”

Pam Ross is a truth-teller with a guitar, serving Americana with rock and blues edges sharp enough to cut through the noise. Her music is raw and relatable, the kind that makes you pause mid-scroll and really listen. Her breakout single “Fire in the Hole” proved she could hook critics and fans alike. Pam doesn’t just write songs—she writes lifelines. She’s less polished veneer and more ripped jeans, whiskey glass, and hard-earned wisdom. Her latest, “Crazy Ride” is out now.

Finally, Shweta Harve brings pop with a purpose. In a world drowning in empty hooks, she’s turning the genre into a megaphone for empowerment. Her single “What the Troll?” doubled as both a bop and an anthem, tackling cyberbullying with sass and resilience. Shweta has Billboard credibility and Mediabase numbers, but she also has something better: a voice that says fun doesn’t have to be shallow. She’s proof you can dance and think at the same time.

What makes the MTS women impossible to ignore is that they aren’t polished into sameness. They’re celebrated for their differences, their quirks, their willingness to be messy, authentic, and unapologetically themselves. They’re country crooners, pop dreamers, blues warriors, and avant-garde visionaries. And together, they’re proving that independence doesn’t mean invisibility—it means freedom. Freedom to be fierce, freedom to be fragile, freedom to reinvent yourself with every release.

These women feel like the artists we’ve been waiting for. They’re not just creating soundtracks for our lives—they’re rewriting the playlist for what it means to be a woman in music right now. Glam, grit, and game-changing creativity: the women of MTS are the future, and the future sounds fearless.

https://galoremag.com/the-women-of-mts-glam-grit-and-game-changing-music/

Live Positively

Pittsburgh isn't the first city you think of when you conjure up the ghosts of the blues. But maybe that's the problem. We keep looking for the blues in the past—cotton fields, shotgun shacks, whiskey-soaked juke joints—when in truth, the blues is where the ache lives now. And right now, it lives in a place called Steel City. It pulses in the smoky alto of a woman named Miss Freddye. Not just a blues singer—a healer, a spirit keeper, a survivor.

Freddye Stover didn't start out trying to be a queen of anything. She was a nurse first, a caregiver in the most literal sense. But what most folks don't know is that music is caregiving—just with a different kind of scalpel. And when Freddye took the stage for the first time in the mid-90s, she wasn't trying to chase fame or fortune. She was trying to fill a space in her own heart—and in doing so, filled a space in ours.

From the beginning, Miss Freddye didn't just sing the blues—she channeled them. Whether fronting her electrified Blues Band or the more rootsy acoustic Blues Fugitives, her voice always carried the weight of experience, soaked in gospel, peppered with soul, and bound together by something unteachable: authenticity. You can't fake the blues. You either lived them or you didn't. And Miss Freddye has lived them—in hospitals, in personal loss, in quiet moments of reflection, and in loud rooms where she gave everything to the mic and left nothing for herself.

There's a warmth to her stage presence that disarms you, a kind of maternal strength. But don't confuse that with gentleness. When she sings “Slippin' Away,” her latest single, it's not a whisper from some faraway place—it's a wail from right here, right now. A lament for every love lost, every chance missed, every wound still bleeding under the surface of a smile. The song is stripped down, raw, and unfiltered. You hear the ache in every note, and you know it's real.

That's the thing about Miss Freddye. She makes you feel seen. Like she's not just singing at you—she's singing for you. And if you've ever been broken, if you've ever held someone's hand as they faded from this world, if you've ever prayed to a God you weren't sure was listening—then she's your blueswoman.

Over the years, Miss Freddye has shared stages with some of the greats—Taj Mahal, Koko Taylor, and the late, legendary Big Jack Johnson. She's earned awards and accolades, sure, but none of that defines her. What defines her is her relentless devotion to service. She volunteers for cancer charities. She sings for veterans. She raises money and awareness for the voiceless. Her music is ministry in denim and leather, a pulpit made of amplifiers and open wounds.

Her catalog isn't massive, but it doesn't need to be. Songs like “Lady of the Blues,” “Freight Train Blues,” and her gospel-drenched “Wade in the Water” hit harder than any double album. Each one feels like a chapter in a living Bible of soul survival. And with every performance—whether in a packed theater or a small-town benefit—she lays herself bare.

Miss Freddye isn't chasing trends. She's chasing truth. And in a world full of auto-tuned phoniness and algorithm-driven playlists, her unfiltered humanity feels like a balm. Her voice isn't just a sound—it's a sanctuary.

Today, she stands as a torchbearer for something sacred. In a genre often dominated by men and shackled by nostalgia, Miss Freddye is proof that the blues is not a museum piece—it's a living, breathing, hurting, healing thing. And it's in good hands.

So if you find yourself wandering, wounded by life's betrayals, tired of the noise, and hungry for something real, find your way to Miss Freddye. She'll be there—mic in hand, heart wide open—ready to sing you home.

https://grandusgmailcom.livepositively.com/miss-freddye-the-healing-blues-of-a-steel-city-soul-survivor/

USFEATURES.COM

If there’s one thing you learn after a few decades marinating in the jukebox slime of American music, it’s this: the real ones don’t scream for your attention. They sing from a place so deep it hurts, and most of the time, nobody’s listening. Miss Freddye has been doing exactly that for darn near thirty years.

Born and bred in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, a city whose soul is lined with steel mills and hard goodbyes, Miss Freddye cut her teeth in the late ’90s singing in church choirs before jumping headlong into the city’s smoky barrooms and busted-down clubs. She was the kind of singer who didn’t need a microphone but respected the heck out of one anyway. Somewhere along the way, she earned the title The Lady of the Blues, which sounds like a coronation but was really just a recognition: Freddye is the blues in Pittsburgh, and beyond, if the world ever bothers to pay attention.

She’s been nominated for Blues Foundation awards, toured endlessly with her bands: the Blues Band and Miss Freddye’s Homecookin’ Band; and worked her rearend off keeping traditional blues alive in a century that’s trying its best to kill it with Auto-Tune and Spotify algorithms. She’s a nurse by day, a singer by night, and a preacher of truth 24/7.

And now here comes Slippin’ Away, a single so drenched in heartache and hollowed-out hope it ought to come with a warning label: Will Reduce Tough Guys to Tears.

Written by Mike Lyzenga, who sadly left this mortal coil in 2022, Slippin’ Away isn’t a reinvention of the wheel. It’s a slow-burn blues ballad about love fading through your fingers like the last cigarette at the end of a bender. And Miss Freddye doesn’t just sing it; she lives it right there in the booth. This isn’t some sanitized, studio-massaged product. You can hear the ache in her breath between the lines. You can hear the cracks in the foundation.

Backing her up is a crew of pros who know when to swing and when to step back and let the story spill out: Mike Huston on guitar with lines that curl up like smoke, Jeff Conner on keys filling the cracks with melancholy gospel light, Greg Sejko’s bass thudding low and resigned, and Bob Dicola’s drums ticking like the last moments before heartbreak hits. They don’t overplay. They understand the assignment: get out of the way and let the blues bleed.

Produced by Miss Freddye herself (because at this point she knows better than to trust anyone else with her soul), the track rolls out slow, steady, and brutal. It’s a prayer at the altar of all the loves that got away, all the things you thought you could hold onto but couldn’t. It’s not pretty — it’s beautiful.

And here’s the rub: the critics love it. The blogs are handing it back with phrases like “soul-baring masterpiece” and “a testament to timeless artistry,” which is all fine and good. But listening to Slippin’ Away in 2024 feels like reading a telegram from another world. A world where the blues still mattered. Where songs weren’t just background noise for TikTok dances but weapons against despair.

From Scholar to Scribe: The Remarkable Journey of Jonathan N. Pruitt

Miss Freddye isn’t chasing trends. She’s standing knee-deep in the river of American music history, pulling bodies out one song at a time. She’s what you get when you don’t quit even when nobody’s clapping. She’s what you get when you understand that the real blues were never about fame, they were about survival.

Slippin’ Away isn’t just another notch on her belt. It’s a reminder that the real artists are still out there, crying into the void, and once in a while, the void cries back.

So listen. Not because it’s fashionable. Not because a playlist tells you to. Listen because someday your heart’s gonna slip away too, and when it does, you’re gonna need a song like this to make sense of it.

–Jackson Johnson

https://www.usfeatures.com/miss-freddyes-slippin-away-blues-for-a-world-that-doesnt-listen-anymore/

womensconference.org

Howlin’ Queens and Six-String Witches: The Fire-Breathing Women of Blues Today

May 9, 2025 Headlines Team Howlin’ Queens and Six-String Witches: The Fire-Breathing Women of Blues Today

Let me ask you something—when was the last time the blues shook you? Not gently tapped you on the shoulder and whispered about some heartbreak in the cotton fields, but grabbed you by the ribcage, dragged you through the swamp, and left you sobbing and screaming and strangely exhilarated under a neon moon? I’ll tell you when: the moment you gave up your preconceptions and let the women take over.

Auto Proyecto Ford Todas las últimas noticias, vistas y reseñas de videos sobre automóviles. www.autoproyecto.com >

Because the truth is, the future (and let’s be honest, the present) of the blues is not some bearded dude sweating over a Stratocaster. It’s being howled, wailed, shredded, and bled out by women who don’t just play the blues—they are the blues.

Auto Pro Top 5 Elec Todas las últimas noticias, vistas y reseñas de videos sobre automóviles. www.autoproyecto.com >

And if you want the best darn proof of that, go listen to Miss Freddye’s “Slippin’ Away.” Seriously, go now. I’ll wait.

Okay, now that you’ve been properly soul-scorched, we can talk. Miss Freddye, Pittsburgh’s Queen of Blues, doesn’t sing that tune—she haunts it. “Slippin’ Away” is a slow-burn lament that oozes loss like a busted whiskey bottle on a barroom floor. Freddye’s voice is weathered velvet, strong as steel cables but frayed just enough to let the heartache bleed through. You can practically hear the ghosts of Koko Taylor and Big Mama Thornton giving her a standing ovation from the great juke joint in the sky.

This woman’s blues are rooted in gospel, grit, and a helluva lot of real-life mileage. She’s not here for frills or fame—she’s here to testify. And you’d better be ready to listen. Learn more, if you dare, at www.missfreddye.com.

But let’s head south—deep south. Like swamp-soaked delta shadows with a side of southern gothic sorcery. Enter The Curse of KK Hammond, who doesn’t just flirt with darkness—she dates it, dances with it, and invites it to burn the barn down. “Walk With Me Through the Fire” isn’t a song—it’s a spell. Hammond plays slide guitar like she’s summoning spirits, conjuring sounds that feel older than the land itself.

Her voice? A smoke-draped drawl, equal parts menace and moonlight. She’s got that rare, twisted alchemy of Robert Johnson’s crossroads mythos and PJ Harvey’s primal poetry. Find her at www.thecurseofkkhammond.com and bow down to the bayou queen (out of the UK) of apocalyptic blues.

And don’t think this is all backwoods and barstools. No, the blues is alive in the city, too—more specifically, in the slick, shimmering streets of Austin, Texas, where Jackie Venson slings blues licks like laser beams. This woman is a virtuosic menace with a Strat. Her track “Love Transcends” might sound like a plea for peace, but under the hood, it’s pure rebellion. Venson uses the blues to speak truth to power, and she does it with fingers that blur and a voice like fire in a velvet bottle.

She’s what happens when B.B. King and Prince share a soul, and it lands in the body of a Black woman unafraid to burn tradition to the ground.

Now let’s detour back to the UK, where Joanne Shaw Taylor is laying waste to stages and stereotypes. Don’t let the blonde curls and Brit accent fool you—she’s got the soul of a Mississippi juke joint preacher. Her song “Dyin’ to Know” doesn’t tiptoe around heartbreak—it walks in, kicks over the furniture, and demands answers. Joanne plays with all the subtlety of a freight train, and thank God for that. She doesn’t borrow from the greats—she builds on them.

And if you still think the blues is a man’s world, let Shemekia Copeland break that last illusion for you. She’s the daughter of Texas blues legend Johnny Copeland, but she doesn’t ride coattails—she tears them off. Her song “Ain’t Got Time for Hate” is a sledgehammer of righteous fury, wrapped in groove. Shemekia blends political fire with personal truth, and every note feels like it was forged in a furnace of social conscience and soul.

These five women—Miss Freddye, KK Hammond, Jackie Venson, Joanne Shaw Taylor, and Shemekia Copeland—aren’t just holding down the blues. They’re dragging it into the present, kicking and screaming, wrapped in chains of distortion and dripping with realness. They’re not stuck in the past—they own the past, and they’re re-writing the future with every stomped foot and snarled lyric.

So forget what you thought you knew about the blues. The next time you hear someone say “the blues is dead,” slap them gently (or not-so-gently) and hand them a playlist of these women. Because the blues isn’t just alive—it’s alive, it’s angry, and it’s absolutely female.

And if you’re not listening? Well… you’re the one who’s slippin’ away.

–Leslie Thomas

https://www.womensconference.org/howlin-queens-and-six-string-witches-the-fire-breathing-women-of-blues-today/

HipHop Amplified

Holding On to Heartache: Miss Freddye Channels the Blues Tradition on Slippin’ Away"

When Miss Freddye opens her mouth to sing, she doesn’t just perform—she confesses. And on Slippin’ Away, her latest single released in June 2024, the Pittsburgh-based vocalist delivers a performance steeped in the blues tradition: a lamentation of love lost, stripped to its emotional essence and laid bare for all to feel.

Written by the late Mike Lyzenga in 2018, Slippin’ Away is a torch song in the truest sense—sorrowful, aching, and resonant with every note. It’s the kind of tune that doesn’t just echo through the speakers but settles in your bones, stirring memories of love that once burned bright and now flickers in the shadows.

The recording, tracked at Red Caiman Media in Miss Freddye’s hometown, features a lineup of seasoned musicians who know exactly how to support a story this intimate. Mike Huston’s guitar lines are tasteful and aching, delivering slow blues phrasing that bends like a sigh. Jeff Conner lays down gentle, gospel-tinged keyboard textures, while Greg Sejko (bass) and Bob Dicola (drums) provide a steady, unhurried foundation that lets the space between notes breathe. There’s restraint here—a mark of musicians who understand the genre and know that in the blues, silence often speaks as loudly as sound.

But the soul of the song is Freddye’s voice. She doesn’t just sing the lyrics—she inhabits them. There’s weariness in her tone, but also resolve. When she sings, “I feel you slipping through my hands / like water I can’t hold,” it isn’t melodrama—it’s memory. It’s lived experience. And that’s what separates the real blues singers from the rest. There’s a quiet strength behind the sorrow, a sense of endurance that only comes from walking through the fire and finding the words to tell the tale afterward.

Freddye produced the track herself, and her choices reflect an artist who’s not chasing trends but honoring truth. The mix is clean but unvarnished—no frills, no unnecessary layers. The vocals sit right where they should: front and center, raw and immediate. This is music with callouses on its hands and stories behind its eyes.

Slippin’ Away speaks to anyone who’s ever loved hard and lost quietly. It’s a mirror held up to the heart.

In a world where blues is too often reduced to a genre tag or background flavor, Miss Freddye reminds us that it’s still a living language—a way of processing life, one aching phrase at a time. Slippin’ Away is not just another single; it’s a small, powerful reminder of what the blues has always been about: truth, struggle, and the beauty of what remains after the pain.

This is the blues as it’s meant to be—deep, deliberate, and utterly human. Miss Freddye doesn’t just keep the flame alive—she sings straight from the fire.

–Shannon Blue

https://www.hiphopamplified.com/single-post/holding-on-to-heartache-miss-freddye-channels-the-blues-tradition-on-slippin-away

Daily Music Roll

Blues has always been one of the most heartfelt genres, and ‘Slippin’ Away’ by Miss Freddye is the perfect representation of what the genre means to its listeners. It is a beautiful and emotional blues track that feels both timeless and deeply personal. The artist’s vocals carry so much soul and honesty, making the song the kind of performance that stops you in your tracks. There is a sense of raw vulnerability in the track that really brings the lyrics to life. Above all, what makes this song so powerful is its simplicity. The stripped-down production lets every word and note breathe. It is just pure emotion wrapped in a smooth and classic blues arrangement.

The lyrics, written by the late Mike Lyzenga, tell a heartfelt story of love slowly slipping through your hands. That theme of quiet heartbreak is something many people can relate to, and Miss Freddye has captured that feeling effortlessly. The pain, the reflection, the longing, it is all there, and you can feel every bit of it. I like how the song does not try to overdo anything. It sticks to its roots while still feeling fresh and relevant. The mood and the tone come together perfectly to create something that lingers long after it ends.

Every aspect and component of ‘Slippin’ Away’ makes it a standout that showcases the artist’s talent, heart, and deep connection to the blues. If you are craving something soulful and sincere, this song can be your go-to. Listen to it on YouTube!

Song Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LeSyRlBicag

https://www.dailymusicroll.com/entertainment/miss-freddye-drops-emotional-new-single-slippin-away.html

MusZoid Magazine

Blues has always been a genre of raw emotion and storytelling, and Miss Freddye's "Lady of the Blues" does not disappoint. This track is a masterful blend of stirring lyrics, meticulous production, and the unmistakable clarity of Miss Freddye's dynamic voice, which takes you straight to the heart of her story.

Lyrics

The lyrics of "Lady of the Blues" paint a vivid narrative of resilience, independence, and emotional depth. Lines such as "Uptown, independently free" and "Stirring deep inside of me your cold heart makes me blue" showcase Miss Freddye’s ability to translate universal feelings into personal and poignant storytelling. There’s a sense of defiance intertwined with vulnerability that shines through, as she balances heartbreak with a fierce sense of self.

One standout element is the refrain, "That is why everybody calls me lady of the blue." The repeated declaration hooks the listener and reinforces her identity—not just as a blues artist but as someone embodying the emotional essence of the genre. It’s introspective yet empowering, making it relatable for anyone who has faced challenges and still risen with strength.

Production

"Lady of the Blues" is a showcase of excellent production that allows each element to shine without overpowering Miss Freddye’s voice, which is the true star of the track. The instrumentation is rich yet restrained—a perfect combination for blues. The smooth guitar riffs and the steady rhythm section provide the perfect backdrop for her vocal performance. The interplay between the music and her voice creates a soulful charm that holds the listener's attention from start to finish.

The track's deliberate pacing adds further weight to its emotional resonance. The space within the arrangement allows each lyric to breathe, giving the listener a moment to fully absorb every word.

Clarity

Miss Freddye’s vocal clarity makes this track truly special. Her voice is full of character—both gritty and smooth as the song demands, with just the right amount of rasp to carry the emotion of the blues. Each phrase is delivered with precision, ensuring that the listener feels the depth of every word.

Even moments of conversational tone like, "You say you wanna argue? You say you wanna fight?" are delivered with razor-sharp enunciation, adding layers of personality to the song. Whether she's belting out the chorus or gently working through the verses, her delivery feels effortless yet profoundly impactful.

Overall Impression

"Lady of the Blues" is a powerful homage to the blues tradition while remaining contemporary and accessible. Miss Freddye brings authenticity and soul to every facet of this track, making it clear why she's earned her title as the "Lady of the Blues."

This is not just a song; it's an anthem for anyone who's weathered life's storms and come out the other side stronger. Miss Freddye reminds us all that the blues isn't just music—it's a celebration of survival and spirit. Whether you’re a long-time fan of blues or just dabbling in the genre, this track is one to add to your playlist.

Rating: ★★★★★

Must Listen For: Anyone who loves storytelling through music and appreciates a voice with grit and grace.

https://muszoid.com/miss-freddye-music-review

Reviews