Album: Indigo Girls, Indigo Girls, 1989
Best Track: "Closer to Fine"
Fun Fact: The word "the" does not appear anywhere on the label of this album. Well done, womyn. In honor of your difficult achievement, I have omitted all the "thes" from the title to this post. Now, if you want a real challenge, try putting nothing but the word "the" on an album cover.
Lasting Memory: To share more of a personal failing than a lasting memory, I don't really care much for the female singing voice. With only a handful of exceptions who come immediately to mind, such Edith Piaf, early Aretha Franklin, Alison Krauss, and this one song by Brenda Holloway, I would almost always prefer to hear a male singer's interpretation of a song.
I don't have the education in audiology or music theory to explain my extremely strong preference for the male singing voice, but I can relate that one of the reasons I've taken so long to post about the Indigo Girls is that I just didn't feel like give Indigo Girls a close listen. Really listening to the album seemed like it would be a drag.
My concern was fully realized, I'm afraid. But the problem isn't so much the Indigo Girls' sound. Rather, much as later-period Melissa Etheridge, all of the lamentable career of Ani DiFranco, and too many other musicians to name -- I'm looking at you, Steve Earle, what with your Jerusalem and such -- the Indigo Girls let their concept take over from their execution.
I posted about gimmicks and their malcontents a little while ago when writing about House of Pain's debut album. A concept differs from a gimmick in that a concept should drive an artist to produce, and what is produced should be better as a result of being consciously created to convey the concept. A gimmick is an end in itself that by its very presence overwhelms any statement an artist may be trying to make beyond, "Hey, look at me and my gimmick."
What the Indigo Girls are selling is the concept of strong-minded, alternatively lifestyled, voice-of-a-generation's womyn who make pretty songs about hard subjects. That concept is HORRIBLE. Sure it moves units, but spend a little time thinking about anyone you personally know who is self-identified as strong-minded, alternatively lifestyled, voice-of-a-generation-y.
How long did it take you to get annoyed, crave a bloody steak and a shot of whiskey, and start listening to some Reverend Horton Heat? For me, it was probably about three-quarters of the way through the very first time I listened to Indigo Girls.
I don't even disagree with what the Indigo Girls have to say about how difficult it can be to make the final transition to adulthood ("Kid Fears") or how differences between people don't have to escalate to distrust and varying kinds of violence ("Tried to Be True"). I even do like their biggest hit, "Closer to Fine," when I can pretend it's just a folk-pop ditty with nothing more to say than that they kind of thought their college professors were pretentious. Where they lose me is when they have to force "Closer to Fine" into being about the very search for self.
That's way before this opens "Love's Recovery":
During the time of which I speak it was hard to turn the other cheek
To the blows of insecurity
Feeding the cancer of my intellect the blood of love soon neglected
Lay dying in the strength of its impurity
[And .... Pause for drop-jawed incredulity.]
Four pages of comments under the linked YouTube video for "Love's Recovery" praise the song for its beauty, for how well it reflects real people's lives, and how great the lyrics are.
[And .... Pause for drop-jawed incredulity.]
What do I know? I do know that I own the Indigo Girls' second album. Maybe I'll find less on that cassette to annoy me. Wish me luck.
Up Next: Indigo Girls, Nomads, Indians, Saints, 1990
1 comment:
I like this album. A lot. My favorite track is "Prince of Darkness," which I notice you don't mention.
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