‘I REALIZE THERE’S MORE’
Lightning strike and serious concussion can’t stop singer from climbing back to the top of music scene
TORONTO Kellylee Evans laughs about the hurdles life thrust upon her over the past five years. She chuckles recalling how being struck by lightning could’ve ended her Juno-winning music career. And Evans smiles explaining that as she neared recovery — readying a comeback album — she suffered a debilitating concussion.
After years of rehabilitation, the 43-year-old singer finds levity where she can.
“I’m laughing, but I’m not laughing,” she says. “I don’t have a choice but to be positive.”
Heading into this weekend’s Juno Awards in Vancouver, Evans has reason to feel optimistic. She’s contending for the third time in the vocal jazz category for Come On, the album shelved after her head injury.
The concussion sent her life into darkness as unpaid bills stacked up, her marriage fell apart and she questioned whether it was worth pursuing music. Before the onslaught of those challenges, Evans’ career felt almost unstoppable. Her popularity was rising in France, where a Nina Simone tribute album connected with listeners.
But one afternoon while washing dishes in her Ottawa kitchen in mid-2013, she was struck by lightning during a thunderstorm. Everything seemed fine; she didn’t bother seeking a doctor right away.
For several days, her body didn’t show any signs of trauma, until the left side of her face began to droop, she mixed up words and found it hard to breathe or eat meals. By then, her arms were twisting toward her body and her legs curling inward, she says. When she couldn’t stand any longer, her friends convinced her to visit the hospital.
Evans was ordered to stay in a wheelchair for five months, but she refused to slow down, playing shows in France and Canada while seated on a stool. She also booked a recording studio to make Come On, an album of upbeat songs meant to propel her spirit beyond the health setback.
Evans realizes now she was pushing herself too hard. Plans came crashing down in the fall of 2015, a day before her album’s release in France. She was stepping out of a hot bath when she fainted and smacked her head, suffering a concussion.
Her doctor told her this was a message she couldn’t ignore: Take six months off.
The reality was crushing, Evans says, partly because the recent dissolution of her marriage left her a single mom of three. Like many Canadian musicians, she didn’t have workers’ compensation or employment insurance.
Shut inside her bedroom, Evans watched the promise of Come On wither away. Gigs were cancelled and seemingly everything she worked toward had deflated. Her doctor ordered her to avoid using computer screens, draw her blinds to block out harsh light and keep her home in near silence.
Evans’ longtime friend Amanda Martinez remembers how dire the situation became.
“There were periods over time where she wouldn’t pick up the phone,” Martinez says. “That’s when I could tell things were really bad.”
Thinking of ways to give Evans a lift, Martinez launched a GoFundMe campaign, urging fans to help the ailing singer pay her living expenses. Friends and family pitched in too, cooking and moving her into a new home while she was still bedridden.
Throughout the process, Evans found it emotionally straining to consider what could’ve been. When copies of Come On were sent over by management, she tossed them in a closet — unable to listen to what had become a painful memory.
It took until early last year before Evans was ready to play her album. When she did, she was surprised by how disconnected she was from the woman on the recording.
“I would always talk about her as ‘That girl,’” Evans says. “She just didn’t seem like me. A lot of changes had to happen in the way that I thought about myself and life.”
Evans isn’t sure about her future as a professional singer. Effects of the concussion make it difficult to tolerate loud noises and her unreliable energy levels hinder plans for international concerts.
Come On found a second life when it arrived in Canadian stores last year, which qualified it for the 2018 Junos. Whether or not she wins, Evans says she will no longer get wrapped up in the pressures of the industry.
“I’m not willing to kill myself for the music industry in the way I was before,” she says. “I realize there’s more.”
I’m laughing, but I’m not laughing. I don’t have a choice, but to be positive.