Listen to LIVE tracks from great artists every Saturday 7pm ET on RadioMaxMusic.

This week
Carole King – It’s Too Late (Live -08)
Steve Earle – Copperhead Road (Live – 89)
Graham Nash – Cathedral [Live - 79]
Toto – Hold The Line (Live -08)
Eric Clapton – I Shot The Sheriff (Live – 90)
Dire Straits & Sting – Money For Nothing (Live – 85)
Elton John – Rocket Man (Live – 74)
Doobie Brothers & John Hall & James Taylor – Power [Live - 79]
Men At Work – Down Under (Live – 98)
Elvis Costello and The Attractions – Watching The Detective (Live)

Chart Position: 1

• Written and originally recorded by Carole King
• Won song of the year Grammy award for Carole King
• Won best pop performance – male Grammy award
• This is James Taylor’s only #1 single
• Backing vocals: Joni Mitchell
• Produced by Peter Asher
• Recorded in Hollywood CA
• Taylor and Mitchell dated in 1971
• Carole King played keyboards on Taylor’s 1971 tour; she lent moral support on the tour as he struggled with the effects of drug withdrawal
• Taylor plays guitar on King’s original version of this song
• Also recorded by Jim Nabors (1972), Dusty Springfield (released in 1999), Barbra Streisand (1971), Roberta Flack & Donny Hathaway (1972), Johnny Mathis (1971), Anne Murray (1971), Andy Williams (1971), Labelle (1971), Claude Francois (1971), Common Ground, Jim Cole, Phil Upchurch (1972), Michael Jackson (1972), Al Green & Billy Preston (1987), Acker Bilk, McFly (2005), Angela & Veronica, Brand New Heavies (1987), Don Williams (1995), Housemartins (1988), Petula Clark, Jimmy Cliff, Michel Delpech (1979), Aretha Franklin (1995), Me First & Gimee Gimees (1999), Sabien Tiels (1999), Billy Crawford, Xavier Davis, Alex De Grassi, Mantovani, Anita Kerr, David Young (2000), Nu Men 4 Soul (2009), Brand New Heavies, Blind Boys of Alabama, Ella Fitzgerald, Barry Manilow w/Melissa Manchester (2007) and many more

Today I’m stuck on: “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?” by Lykke Li

As Carole King fan since childhood, I can’t tell you how delighted I was to find an e-mail in my Inbox containing this lovely cover of “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” by Lykke Li. Her captivating vocals fit this tune beautifully, and the bare echoes of the piano mirror the echoes of doubt in a woman’s mind as she asks: “Will you still love me tomorrow?”

Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I’m the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night meets the morning sun?

I’d like to know that your love
Is love I can be sure of
So tell me now, and I won’t ask again
Will you still love me tomorrow?

———————————————–

Click Song for MediaFire Download Link
“Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?” – Lykke Li
“Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” – Carole King

” Penso che creare  un blog sia  un po’ come metter su casa…. Una casa da single, una casa solo per te…

dove scegliere tutti gli elementi in assoluta autonomia e libertà…

Questo luogo dinventa il tuo spazio, un tuo rifugio segreto, il posto dove puoi essere quella che “sei” e non quella che “devi essere”.

Così , comincia a progettare, ti lasci conquistare dall’architettura di queste nuove stanze scegliendo il tema che più ti aggrada, poi modifichi , personalizzi,  vari il colore degli ambianti, i quadri alle pareti… la musica che vuoi avere in sottofondo…  gli arredi ed i gadget che dissemini qua e là …

per riconoscerti nel progetto che hai realizzato…

Invece… al primo “complemese” mi ritrovo in una sorta di “sancta sanctorum” della depressione anaclitica…

Vero è che stato un periodaccio… e non è neppure finito…  ma guardare la vita con il sorriso sulle labbra aiuta…. Quindi  è tempo di cambiare atteggiamento…

Pronti…. Via!!! “

in sottofondo… I Feel the Earth Move Carole King

Will you still love me tomorrow was written by Gerry Goffin and the great Carole King – the duo that also brought us the Loco-motion and Natural Woman. The ballad was originally recorded by The Shirelles and topped most major charts in 1961. Since then, it has been recorded by many great acts, including Ben E King, Laura Branigan, The Four Seasons and King herself. More recently, the song was recorded by Amy Winehouse and we now have another great performer to add to list, Lykke Li.

Anyone that knows me, knows that I have a great love for the swedish born beaut. Everything about her drives me absolutely nuts. Her voice paralyzes me, while her lyrics inspire me. The tune may not be a Li original but she does one hell of a job to make it her own. Bravo! I must admit that while Lykke’s version is sad as hell, so much that listening to it makes me want to rip my heart out, its done so well I just can’t stop myself from going back for more.

Lykki Li – Will you still love me tomorrow

Another great cover of Li’s is her take on Tribe Called Quest’s Can I kick it. The girl can throw a rhyme better than most new hip hoppers today!

Lykke Li – Can I Kick It (Tribe Called Quest Cover)

Bonus!

Amy Winehouse – Will you still love me tomorrow

Chart Position: NR

• Written by Carole King and Gerry Goffin
• Originally recorded by Barbara Lewis (1966)
• Rhythm track was recorded in Memphis TN
• Vocals were recorded in New York City NY
• Produced by Jerry Wexler and Arif Marden
• Also recorded by American Breed (1967) and P.J. Proby (1967)

When I read on James Taylor’s fan site that the great man himself was coming to Auckland on April 10, 2010  along with Carole King, I was ecstatic! Their Troubadour Reunion concert was advertised yesterday in the Sunday Star Times, along with an interview with Taylor and his long-time friend and collaborator Carole King.   I have been a fan of James Taylor for years now after my dad introduced me to his music and his albums take up a significant space in my CD collection.  He’s one of those artists that whenever I listen to his music my soul glows because it just makes me so happy.  He has an amazing voice, which I think has aged like a fine wine, and has written some amazing songs, such as Fire and Rain, Carolina in my mind, Line ‘em up, and My travelling star.

I’ll definitely be lining up for tickets when they go on sale on Monday 23 November.

If you’re also a fan, we have some of his albums in the library including my favourites October Road, You’ve got a friend: the best of James Taylor, and One Man Band.

Chart Position: NR

• From the film Head
• Written by Carole King
• Lead vocals: Mickey Dolenz

Debo reconocer que en el tema de la música soy bastante machista, no se si por costumbre o cultura rock soy mas de escuchar hombres que mujeres. Pero cuando las chicas entran en mi vida lo hacen con mucha fuerza y no las puedo abandonar.

Aquí mi top five de mujeres cantantes que me roban el corazón. Aclaro que no están puestas en orden de prioridad, cada una de ellas es importante en mi vida por igual. Enjoy.

Carole King

Poca gente sabe lo importante que es esta niña en la historia de la música de los últimos 40 años, su voz y su palabra pueden conmigo.

Nina Simone

La conozco de siempre pero realmente llegue hace muy poco a entender realmente su dimensión, es enorme, me hace llorar y emocionarme profundamente cada vez que la escucho, si no probaron sus mieles aún se las recomiendo, avisando que el enganche es para siempre.

Aimee Mann

La conocí allá en los ‘80 con su primer grupo y volvió a mi vida gracias al soundtrack de la película “Magnolia”, todo en esta artista es bello, y sus canciones son un lugar seguro donde siempre quiero estar.

Janis Joplin

En serio tengo que explicar porque me gusta?

Eva Cassidy

Cuando la descubrí no pude soportar que ya había muerto, es la voz mas dulce que escuche en mi vida, absolutamente irresistible.

Demás esta decir que estas canciones me remiten a mujeres…Pero esa es otra historia.

Hey there, long time no write! Most of these have been around for a while (if not all of them, the list isn’t quite set in stone right now) but I just discovered them, and so, yeah.

Dark at the End of the Tunnel — Oingo Boingo

[This album is just super classic eighties. And also Danny Elfman, so how can you go wrong. Oingo Boingo came up recently when Danny Elfman was being discussed, and I listened to the one album I had and loved it, so acquired the rest of their stuff. It's really good! Except for their live album, which has too much guitar.]

Tapestry — Carole King

[Well, I knew I was bound to love this when I heard it, given that it's one of the top-selling albums ever, and everyone else loves it. Now I know why. I actually just randomly came across this when someone returned it at the library where I work.]

More Adventurous — Rilo Kiley

[I have had Under the Blacklight for a while, and liked a few songs on it (especially "15" and "Breaking Up") so I figured I should check out the rest of the band's stuff. More Adventurous does not have a bad track, in my opinion. In researching what album to check out, I discovered that Rilo Kiley is the band, not a person. Who knew? Not me.]

Who Do You Think You Are — Dala

[I discovered Dala at the Newport Folk Festival, as I am sure I have written about. Oddly, I realized that, though their most recent album (Everyone is Someone) has some better songs, the better album is their earlier one. Weird.]

And, last but not least, but it doesn’t quite count as an album:

Live in London — Leonard Cohen

[This shouldn't count because it's live, but it's still really good. Great back-up people really make it work.]

Cover to Girl Groups, Girl Culture (Routledge, 2007); image courtesy of routledgemusic.com

For financial reasons, I was only able to swing one day of Fun Fun Fun Fest so I’m blogging while many in this fair city are catching some good music in Waterloo Park. Although, admittedly, if you’re gonna do one day of the festival, I think yesterday was the way to go. I got to check several bands I’ve never seen before off my list: No Age (who I’ve missed by a marrow margin at least three times), Jesus Lizard, Pharcyde, Les Savy Fav, and Death.

But if you have the scratch, please make sure everyone sees one of Mika Miko’s last shows ever on the black stage at 2:55. I might try to get down there later just to hear it from the other side of the fence.

Mika Miko’s exceptional presence on this year’s bill seems as good a place as any to remember that, as Melissa at GRCA astutely pointed out in her recent post, this year boasts a very dudecentric line-up. So I’ll review Jacqueline Warwick’s book Girl Groups, Girl Culture: Popular Music and Identity in the 1960s book in the hopes that at least one historically significant girl group or all-female band will reunite for next year’s FFFF like Death did this year. And like the Shangri-Las did at CBGB’s in 1977.

As much as I hate comparing women’s work so as to pit them in opposition, Warwick’s book is a tremendous example of how effective it can be to narrow the scope of the cultural moment being covered, something I wish Charlotte Greig would have considered when penning her book on girl groups. While Greig truncates the history of the girl group era in order to broaden the definition of what a girl group is, Warwick focuses primarily on this brief but important moment in history (roughly between 1958 and 1965), considering its ongoing influence as an epilogue.

By taking this approach, Warwick considers the girl group era and its participants from several different, often surprising, areas of inquiry. As a result, she proves the cultural signficance of a popular form dismissed by many as superficial, polished, and phony who instead tend to favor rock music’s supposed transcendent raw authenticity, and argues strongly that this binary construction is inherently gendered. Duh, and amen.

Warwick posits that one of the most important things about the girl group era was its insistence on putting girls and young women in the spotlight, introducing a complex, celebratoryn and at times contradictory performance of what the author calls “girlness”. Often, these ladies were working class, and of African American or mixed racial and ethnic heritage. They had few options for financial mobility and minimal career prospects being marriage, motherhood, clerical jobs, and day labor. Forming vocal groups together and cutting records gave them access to other opportuntities toward professional advancement and personal growth, expanding the idea of girlhood as an identity across race and class lines. 

Sometimes these groupings resulted in the cultivation of considerable, devoted fan bases that, in The Supremes and The Ronnettes’ cases, were comparable to Beatlemania. Some of those fans were even other male-only rock bands, like The Beach Boys, The Beatles, and later, The Ramones. Take that, pop-rock, girl-boy binaries!

In other words, I’m telling you to read this book.

One thing I appreciate about Warwick’s book from the outset is the celebration of the female voice. As I’ve long believed and argued extensively in this blog, we cannot give short-shrift to singers. While they can assuredly be tokenized and objectified, but they can also be empowered, embodied, and forge their own agency. Heartenly, she finds much going on with the voice, a distinct instrument no matter how it may have been manipulated or homogenized by label owners like Motown’s Barry Gordy and producers like Phil Spector and his overwhelming wall of sound. She hears the genteel precision of Diana Ross’s soprano, the urgent purr of Ronnie Spector’s husky alto, the untrained wavering of Shirelle Shirley Owens’s pitch, the gutteral inflections on Supreme Florence Ballard’s tone, the put-on nasal affectations of Broadway-trained groups like The Angels, the racial dimensions of Dusty Springfield’s blue-eyed soul, and the teenaged monotone of Shangri-La Mary Weiss.

She also hears these girls singing to one another, often in their own forms of feminine dialect and for the purposes of providing support and advice. On record, acts like The Dixie Cups, The Crystals, Betty Everett, and The Velvelettes would pepper their songs with seemingly nonsensical words and phrases like “iko iko,” “da doo ron ron,” “shoop,” and “doo lang doo lang,” often provided by backing vocalists as a means of support for the lead vocalist, who might be intimating her feelings about burgeoning romance or her conflicted feelings in the aftermath of a break-up.

Often, these girls were providing one another moral support and providing advice as well. While Warwick notes that advice songs tended to be the domain of girl groups with African American members like The Velvelettes, The Shirelles, The Chiffons, and The Marvelettes, they often imparted wisdom to their audiences that they learned from their mothers or their sisters, as well as sharing what they’ve learned from their own experiences. In doing so, these songs provided a counterargument to the assertion that girl groups only sang about boys and also expanded female discourse in popular music by including the words and experiences of generations of women into then present-day pop songs by girls.  

It cannot be ignored that while many girl group songs were written by men, not all of them were. As mentioned elsewhere, Brill Building stalwarts like Cynthia Weil, Ellie Greenwich, and Carole King were of paramount importance to the era. Many of these women, like Greenwich, wrote about seemingly teenage issues like young love and treated it as legitimate, at times giving it life-and-death importance, as she did on The Shangri-Las’ “Leader of the Pack.” 

King is a particularly interesting case as well. Before striking out on her own as a solo artist, she wrote many important songs for girl groups. Some songs, like The Crystals’ “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss)” address the troubling and dangerous aspects of patriarchy and oppression, and have been covered to harrowing effect by bands like Hole and Grizzly Bear.

Other songs King penned gesture toward the era’s prescience regarding shifting cultural attitudes toward feminism, female agency, and sexual autonomy, as on The Shirelles’ anthemic “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” 

Girl groups were also clearly singing with one another, as girl groups often were comprised of siblings and relatives who wore matching outfits and performed intricate choreography to suggest that these girls were a unit, despite at times having clearly defined lead singers and stars who (especially in Diana Ross’s case) were thin and had a more conventional look and sound.

It was this image coordination that made The Ronnettes able to ingratiate night clubs when they were underaged, gave them the confidence to perform at those night clubs, and provided them with a sense of belonging that made them tough enough to brave any New York City street. It also makes this sense of actual or engineered sisterhood and camderadie seem especially fragile when success encroaches on it, as the tragic dimensions of Estelle Bennett and Florence Ballard’s post-girl group lives remind. 

Warwick shies from making any explicitly queer connections to girl groups beyond passing references to Springfield and Lesley Gore’s orientations and their relationships with the closet. I would have liked a bit more discussion of the queer dynamics of the groups’ homosocial bonding both on- and off-record. A brief appraisal of queer fandom (seemingly most pronounced among certain circles of gay men, though not exclusively) would also have been appreciated.

That said, I do appreciate Warwick reminding her readers of girl groups’ continual impact. As this is the section of the book that gets less focus, it would be worthwhile to read Warwick’s and Greig’s books together to get a larger sense of how punk, hip hop, and contemporary pop music were influenced by girl groups.

I would hasten to add country music to the list of genres that were shaped by this era. Given last night’s Saturday Night Live, which featured crossover star Taylor Swift as both host and musical guest (a rare opportunity for most pop stars, unless they are Justin or Britney). Watching her play a brace-faced teenager in a skit about parents who are worse drivers than their kids and her performance of “You Belong To Me” complete with careful, song-appropriate gestures, it was clear to me that the girl group era continues. As Mika Miko performs one of their last shows later today, I’ll wonder where it’ll permeate next.

Essa música é linda, e é cantada por cantora renomadas como Gloria Estefan, Shania Twain, Celine Dion, Carole King. Show de Bola.

Acesse a Comunidade Universal:

www.comunidadeuniversal.com.br

Today, out of the blue,  I get a phone call.  A confident southern accent greets me with “Dah-ne-ese? (three delicious syllables) Do you know who this is?”

I knew that the voice was very familiar but  couldn’t place it at the time.  I felt old and anxious...  Then this energy-filled voice rescued me by identifying herself as “Pam” my old college roommate from a few decades ago… in rural Arkansas in the heart of “the Bible Belt”.

OF COURSE!   I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! It’s only been forever since we spoke.  Pam said, “I found you on Facebook!”

Holy cow!

Facebook is a wonderful thing!  It allows you to quickly and painlessly re-connect with old friends that you’ve “let go” years ago for whatever  stupid reasons.  (“I don’t have the time.  We live so far away.  We’ve both moved on.  We’re not the same people.  We probably don’t have anything in common.  She probably wouldn’t like the new me.  I’m too tired to invest in “old friends”;  it’s hard enough keeping up with current friends in my crazy whirlwind of a life.”) Whatever the reason,  it’s not good enough, so you silently let things “slide” and there goes the friendship….for years…decades…  Yet, you think of them often and wonder what their life is like.  Are they happy?  Do they think of me?

So today, Facebook gave me the opportunity to experience an incredible trip down “Memory Lane”.

Pam reminded me of old girlfriends and male friends significant to the two of us.  Some I remembered and could actually picture their faces, but others were simply familiar names but no faces came to mind.    This weekend, Pam is going to our Alma Maters’  homecoming football game and will see several of these people.  At least now, she can answer the question, “What ever happened to your sidekick? (Deni-Bob as I was called by our closest pals, if they even remember me!)

I mentioned recently hearing the Carole King song “So Far Away” and recalling the time she & I hitched a ride to Memphis for a rock concert and ended up in Overland Park where we sat on a concrete wall, dangling our feet over the edge, feeling the cool southern breeze on our tanned skin, listening to music playing on a radio, watching the hippies, just talking, and being “Pam & Denise”.  That memory will last forever thanks to the everlasting musical cues.  Surprisingly, Pam remembered this experience with similar accuracy.

She said, ” I still have your old Jimi Hendrix cassette.  I found it as I was getting rid of some of my stuff from the ’60’s and ’70’s”.   (Today, my husband, a Blues harmonica player, would love hearing that ancient cassette.  He’s still a dedicated “Hendrix Fan”.  Me?  I’m more into Pink!)

Pam spoke of various college football players she admired “way back when”.  She was into the “jocks” and I was into the “freaks”.  I informed her that I still don’t know anything about football. She laughed,  “I know, but it was cute back then!”  Actually, that was one of the few differences she and I had at the time.  We loved each others’ company so much, our differences didn’t matter.

We were “two peas in a pod”.  We were innocent young co-eds, gullible, and total “Jesus freaks” or “flower children” looking for peace and only the good in the world and those around us.  We trusted everyone.   We each wore love beads around our necks.  We were good girls.

Pam had long straight blonde hair that she carefully ironed daily on our dorm room’s ironing board.   I was a brunette with long frizzy ringlet (permed) curls.  We both were skinny, vivacious, and attracted attention easily.

Our most common threads were our love of music, smiling, and believing in Christ.  We had so many friends.  Life was fun and full.   However, we both lost a parent during those two years together in college.  She lost her mother and I lost my father.  They were significant personal losses but our friendship eased the pain.  This, I’m guessing, was our real bond; the bond that keeps us forever in each others’ thoughts.   Now I know just how much we bonded.

So maybe we haven’t been connected for decades;  today, Facebook brought us back.  And it’s SO EASY BEING SOCIAL NETWORK FRIENDS.  Now, we can witness each others lives vicariously. WE DON’T HAVE TO TALK AND WE DON’T HAVE TO WRITE.  (But I hope we do!)  WE CAN SIMPLY READ AND ENJOY!

So maybe we aren’t the same young co-eds we once were.  I’m certainly no longer the “good girl” she knew, nor skinny or gregarious.   However today, we did find out that we still have lots in common.   Now, we are middle-aged women who still feel younger than we should. We both struggle to maintain healthy bodies via resistance to regular exercising and diet.   Our marriages are both lasting “solid” relationships even with their ups and downs.   And we both are non-child-bearers by choice.   It felt good to listen to a friend that shares my personal thoughts on life without children and grandchildren.  It’s a been a great way of living for me!  But most can’t even conceive the thought of life without their kids or grandchildren.   Ho-hum.

Now that Pam & I have re-connected, hopefully some day soon, we will take the risk to actually meet and spend some face to face time.  I hope so.  We would be foolish to let our friendship lapse again for whatever reason. It’s just all too easy to communicate in today’s social network world.

“GO F-A-C-E-B-O-O-K!”

James Taylor

As I tune my studying playlist to the placid yet boldly constructive sounds of Western Folk music, ranging as far back to the 1950s and as distant as the cool coasts of Ireland, I engage in my own discourse concerning this genre of music, what it means to me and the thoughts of others on this topic. Though the art form is based in rural styles of instrumentation and intonation that tell stories or folklores, folk music is generally associated with White youths from cities and suburbs seeking peaceful revolution. We see the greatest following of such music in the 1960s and1970s, primarily with American folk legends Bob Dylan, James Taylor, Cat Stevens, Carole King, and Harry Chapin. Their voices were that of reason in a very turbulent America; whether it was civil rights, war, domestic issues, or addiction, these pioneers fused country, rock, and blues to form an honest expression of man, his vices as well as his weaknesses.

James Taylor – Fire and Rain

Harry Chapin – Cats In the Cradle

Today, modern folk styles have clearly overlapped with pop, country, and soul genres. Irish artists, Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan as well as American country trio, Dixie Chicks have made clear Folk investments into their craft, while maintaining contemporary appeals. Nonetheless, artists like James Taylor and Bob Dylan remain exceedingly popular, crossing generational gaps with an ever-growing fan base. Mass culture has used the inspiring sounds of such legends to create a unified sense of consumerism, through commercials and still ads.

Dixie Chicks – Travelin’ Soldier

Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan – Volcano

But what about other artists who sang with the sinuous undertones of pain and the delicate kisses of joy? Within the unturned sides of sweet music is a tradition of exclusion and elitism. Grammy award winning singer/songwriter/musician, Tracy Chapman has been known by an underground market as a dreadlocked folk artist known for her graceful strumming, Bluesy tones, and pertinent lyrics. Her songs feature romance, politics, grief and a multitude of other expressions that illustrate the human experience without words, just sounds. These sounds were harmonic chants, narrative baselines, and stories free from social demarcation. Despite the undeniable talent, musicianship and dedication, she is often relegated to the misconstrued underworld of the alternative/other category. Even though she has been active for over 20 years, she has yet to fall among the ranks of other geniuses of her genre.

Tracy Chapman

Though her artistic success and personal integrity has gone unrecognized, this Black female has persisted in her musical pursuits despite the definitions of femininity and Blackness. Her music is not restrained by racial or feminine themes, making her a more transcendent artist. However, has the industry defined Black artists as excessively sexual or overly bitter? Whatever the case maybe, it is apparent that artists of color have been given a sole function; thankfully this songstress has made it even clearer that she will perfect her craft in spite of the critics and the throng of skeptics that tell her otherwise.

Tracy Chapman – Fast Car

To learn more about the history of folk music in America check out NPR music feature,  America’s Folk Music Anthology.

Oluwatosin Bosede

I’m thinking of my state tonight, and how I remember what it used to be. That California Dream is now become a nightmare. I want to go home, but lord. Poor California. Schwarzenegger wasn’t the only one to ruin it. California, coming home, too.

I discovered Joni in the late Sixties and by the time I entered college, I was a full-blown Joni addict: Blue, For the Roses, and Court and Spark. Understand, it’s not just her singing that takes my soul. It’s her lyrics. Pure poetry. She was 26 at this BBC live concert.

She talks about people reading Rolling Stone in this song, but I remember reading in their pages someone’s insulting description of her as everybody’s old lady. Somebody must have been pissed that she had had lovers as diverse as Graham Nash, Leonard Cohen, and James Taylor, but hadn’t put the guy on her list, cutting that wide swash. I’m still reading Girls Like Us: Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon–And the Journey of a Generation, by Sheila Weller. Out of the three, this girl really didn’t want her biology to determine her destiny, though she loved her men and loved them deeply. She wanted her dream as a performer, and no way was any guy stopping her.

Joni is semi-retired, concentrating on her visual art. She released an album, Shine, on Starbucks’ Hear Music label in 2007. Let’s hope Joni, as well as Carole King, completes her autobiography very soon.

I have mistakenly been handing out my colleague’s business cards today.  Most people realised that my name is not Maria Anderson, that I am not a natural woman, and handed them back.  I am not even an unnatural woman.  Am I a natural man?  I hope not.  I tend to think of natural men as the guys in provincial nightclubs who wear luridly coloured shirts, clutch bottles of Budweiser and talk about pussy.

You make me feel like an unnatural man?  I’m not sure that’s what Carole King had in mind when she wrote this song I cannot sing.  She wouldn’t have needed the morning rain to take away her inspiration if she’d imposed that song title on herself.  It may have given James Taylor a nasty fright as well.

I have tried to sing this song in a deserted house in the middle of the afternoon, up lonely valleys in the Swiss Alps, in anonymous hotels in Asian cities no one has ever heard of, where no one speaks English.  But it’s just no good.  I can never get beyond the word ‘natural.’ 

I sometimes find my hands resting on my hips, my legs crossed when seated, a cigarette dangling from a limp wrist.  And when someone ridicules my effeminate behaviour, I laugh as honestly and as heartily as they do.  I am comfortable in my hetrosexuality and looking forward to getting married next year.  I still can’t get beyond the first line of the chorus, though.

But I can rely on Rod Stewart to sing a song that I cannot, as well as many others.  In 1972, he sang I’d Rather Go Blind.  I, however, would prefer to keep my eyesight and watch you walk away with another man.

Rod can rely on himself to sing songs that no one else would dare: Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?  You’re making it rather difficult for us to answer in the affirmative, Rod, when the only thing beneath that tight-fitting black leather jacket is chest hair and you’ve got the same haircut as a Flying Doctor.

Van Morrison can rely on Rod to sing songs that Van should never even have written in the first place.  Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?  Hard to say whose version is the most disturbing: the grumpiest man in Belfast’s or the Scot in the leopard-print jump-suit?  If only Van had sung it in the leopard-print jump-suit, he’d have won hands down.

The first time you hear Rod’s version of You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman, you think, ‘no, surely, he may have crooned through Tom Traubert’s Blues, but he wouldn’t stoop that low.’  You revert to your five year old self, giggling in expectation that Rod’s going to declare himself to be a natural woman… 

…and then he spoils it.  Grappling with man’s occasional compulsion to sing You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman, Rod lops off the “wo.”  He ruins the lyric’s meter (but your inner Rod still fills in the missing syllable) and denies the latent child in all of us the pleasure of calling him a sissy.

I cannot bring myself to sing You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman.  Nor can any man.  Not even Rod Stewart.

I am absolutely IN LOVE with the music of Carole King. It started with “It’s Too Late” which I knew from Girl Talk(ridiculous, I know). Then I took out one of her albums from the library, and her voice is absolutely beautiful. It’s not like overly sweet and it has like a certain scratchiness/roughness to it. It has a certain scratchy rawness, I almost want to compare it to Robert Plant’s. But it’s clear at the same time

She’s just amazing…this isn’t very eloquent right now because I’m just procrastinating studying and listening to her music at the same time…but like in “So Far Away” when she’s like “face at my door” and there’s like percussive piano chords, switching with every word…it’s absolutely beautiful. And “Beautiful”…so simple but so amazing. She is such a talented pianist.

Old musicians need some recognition once in a while. I mean, Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the USA” is extremely contagious, but gosh. Carole King is a genius. End.

Everyone has a story about their introduction to the music of Carole King, Joni Mitchell and Carly Simon, the music that not only defined a generation of women, but also the generations that came after. Our mothers played their records, revisiting their youth and taking a moment to view things from Both Sides, Now; tearing up when they talked about Joni Mitchell’s lyrics, humming ”Natural Women” around the house or “Love of My Life” as they rocked us to sleep at night. My stories parallel those of many others my age. Carole King’s voice had always felt familiar to me. I don’t recall the first time I heard her music or how I learned all of the lyrics to her Tapestry album, it simply feels intertwined with my molecules. Carly Simon’s music and lyrics spilled into my ears through the movie soundtracks of the 80’s-90’s. Joni Mitchell’s music came to me via a college dorm mate during our first week of freshman year. I heard “I could drink a case of you and still be on my feet …” Joni’s voice was unlike any other  I had ever heard. I don’t recall my dorm mate’s name, but I never forget Joni Mitchell’s. She became the soundtrack to four years of college.

I knew these women’s histories through their music, but I didn’t know about the lives they lived behind the music until I took a Women in Rock class in college. We started with Billie Holiday, The Boswell Sisters, and Ella Fitzgerald, and worked our way to The Shirelles, The Chantels, The Ronettes, and Carole King, Joni Mitchell & Carly Simon. The history of these musicians and their personal lives was fascinating. Every time I entered that classroom I felt excited and alive, as if the history of women in rock was unfolding right before my eyes.

That feeling was reawakened twice recently. First, when I read Sheila Weller’s “Girls Like Us” a definitive, beautifully written and meticulously researched account of the lives of Carole, Joni and Carly. And again this past Monday, when I went over to the Merkin Concert Hall, where Weller’s book was turned into a performance of Mitchell, King and Simon’s music by five Broadway singers: Liz Callaway (who also narrated the event), Ann Hampton Callaway, Jessica Molaskey, Capathia Jenkins, and Barbara Walsh (along with musical director Jeffrey Klitz, director Dan Foster, writer Sean Hartley, and John Pizzarelli on guitar). Weller was also on stage, reading passages from the book.

Between taking turns at the mike to singing some of the “Girls” greatest hits, each performer shared a story about how they discovered Simon, King and Mitchell’s music — Ann Hampton Callaway even got to co-write a song with Carole King. The group also came together on a few songs including a re-arrangement of “You’re So Vain” that deserves to be released as a single.

While each woman put their own signature on the music, they also had stand-out songs that not only showcased their voices, but revealed their very core. Sometimes it was unexpected, like Jessica Molaskey’s rendition of “Raised on Robbery” with her husband, John Pizzarelli’s amazing accompaniment on guitar. Molaskey’s interpretation of the song was funny and a slower (but still jazzy) version of Mitchell’s original tune. It was a little piece of brilliance. (Jessica Molaskey, if you happen to read this, please record that song, ASAP). Sometimes the rendition took your breath away, like when Barbara Walsh sang the combined “Song to a Seagull/Both Sides, Now.” Walsh’s performance of the songs was sublime. And sometimes it just knocked your socks off: like Capathia Jenkins version of “So Far Away,” which was one of those rare moments when you witness that what makes a song legendary is its ability to transcend the original artist/songwriter and truly belong to the performer. Similarly, Liz Callaway and Ann Hampton Callaway’s duet on “That’s the Way I Always Heard it Could Be” was divine. When you hear the interwoven voices of these sisters, there is no need for any accompaniment. Liz’s pure, strong soprano combined with Ann’s jazzy mezzo/alto was like witnessing the interplay of a violin and a cello. They share an instinct for song and sound that is without peer.

Though the vocal talent of the performers was evident, it was the music, the shared history that each performer found within her song, that made the evening magical. While Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon and Carole King are three female music legends, they are also the poets who recorded the history of women in lyrics and measures, rhythms and records. They helped define who we are, who we raise and who we continue to become. But at the same time, they are still girls like us.

The Mistake By The Lake

I don’t know why I even bother getting agitated anymore. 

I don’t take it seriously, and it’s been a long time since I have gone out of my way to look for the list of nominees, let alone actually root for someone to make it in. It’s a sham, a political clusterfuck of a process, and certainly bears no resemblance to a recognition of the truly worthy. But the other day an email hit my mailbox listing some of the nominees, and well…here we go again.

Some of the finalists this year include The Stooges (again), and KISS (finally), two bands that have obviously made an impact on rock’n'roll, albeit in very different ways. Even The Hollies surfaced after being eligible for over two decades.

But Donna Summer? Disco-thumping, heavy-breathing Donna Summer? Are you kidding me? Sure, she sold a lot of records in the 70s, but so did Cheap Trick and Deep Purple. She might get in before them? They haven’t even hit the finalists list yet! Hall and Oates were way bigger than Donna Summer could ever dream of, with a long string of hit singles that dominated the charts, but I don’t see their name.

And L.L.Cool J? Why- because he stars in a new CSI spin-off show? I like the guy, but not only does his music have nothing to do with rock, there are tons of deserving artists with longer careers who sold more records – what’s the criteria here? And how are rap artists more rock than progressive rock veterans like Yes and King Crimson? Where are The Moody Blues and  Procol Harum?

And before you start tossing the race card at me, I’m not rushing to send Laura Nyro in there, either. At least she has been an influence on a number of rock artists, but until the day Carole King walks through that door, don’t talk to me about great female songwriter/performers. (I wouldn’t have voted Bonnie Raitt in that quickly – yes, she’s had a lengthy and brilliant career, but she’s far from a household name. John Hiatt is a far better songwriter and he’s not in; and if you want to talk underappreciated musical geniuses, where’s Rory Gallagher’s name on that wall?)

And I’m still appalled that bands like R.E.M. – worthy eventually – are in while earlier artists aren’t.  No J. Geils Band, Humble Pie or Johnny and Edgar Winter? All those record sales and The Guess Who, The Turtles and Tommy James are waiting? No Small Faces? Where the hell is Lou Reed?

Some of the elections are artists who also have success as producers, but Todd Rundgren and Rick Derringer have done both – where are their names on the ballot? And if the anything-but-rock Madonna is in because of cultural impact and huge record sales, why not The Monkees?

No idea who the final five will be, but since it’s the 25th Anniversary you can be sure that fanfare will trump honest voting (just ask The Dave Clark Five about that one) because they gotta sell those dinner tickets. Predictability? You’ll see a female artist or female fronted band, a disco or rap artist, a blast-from-the-early-days, a hugely famous artist/band, and one crapshoot. That’s how they roll in Cleveland…well, actually New York, where Jann Wenner and his cronies run the floating crap game. They need to uproot the damned thing and move it to Detroit where it belongs.

The absurdity can be summed up in five words: Alice Cooper isn’t in it.

Here’s a list of the current inductees. For a list of the truly worthy artists and a real Hall of Fame, do what I do – look at your record collection.

If not, enjoy your Eminem and Beyonce inductions. Maybe you can hang on until 2034 when Chickenfoot is eligible.

Without some of this kind of DNA, you ain't rock'n'roll