“Usually I’m a pretty hyperactive person,” says Kristine Evans. “The first album I released is called Ichibiri. That’s Japanese slang for hyperactive.”
By night, Evans is an electronica artist performing at the Baltic Room and the Vera Project under the names Kinoko and Rainbow Pawz. By day, she helps run the U District YMCA. At the Y, she leads me from room to room while listing all her responsibilities. She’s so enthusiastic, she makes it sound like a big party.
“I make sure that the fans are turned on in the cardio room, make sure that there are towels and cleaner for people to wipe off machines. Today you can hear we have haircuts going on. Oh, I make sure that there’s coffee, and I personally try to make sure there’s tea and water. I’m a big advocate of making sure people remember to drink water, because sometimes our world does not accommodate that.”
Evans loves working at the Y, in part because the employees get along so well together. She places a lot of importance on the Buddhist principle of “right livelihood.” She couldn’t work in a negative environment, she says, because a musician can’t fake joy. The audience would see right through her.
“By the time I’m done with my work, I’m never like tired-exhausted, I’m just kind of grounded.” That’s when Evans works on music, which consists of bending the circuits in old Game Boys and other obsolete electronics to make what she and her friends call “chip music.”
“What you’re doing for a living is a lot of your hours and it’s a lot of who you are,” she says. “A lot of people spend a lot of time in a job that isn’t right for them. And they’re gonna take that home emotionally and pass that on to others. And they’re not gonna be able to give the right effort at the job that they’re at if they’re not really feeling it.”
Joshua McNichols
Day Job is a look at how musicians pay the rent.
