- Whitney, What Happened to the Greatest Love of All??
I wouldn't say I'm the biggest Whitney Houston fan. But if you were a kid when I was a kid, you heard her everywhere. Because damn, the woman could sing! And unlike a lot of divas, her voice wasn't annoying. It was alluring, downright amazing.
The last two weeks, there's been a lot of posting Whitney clips to Facebook and mourning her loss.
But one thing's been nagging at me. How does the woman who brought us to tears singing, "I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way..." end up a junkie??
Unlike Amy Winehouse (and countless others), she wasn't always a train wreck. She didn't seem to come from a messed up family.
It's been nagging at me, so I checked her background on Wikipedia. She was discovered early on by Clive Davis. She grew up singing in the church which was a big part of her upbringing in a middle class Christian family. Whitney is one of those rare examples where the label actually developed her talent -- sat on it for awhile while she could study with the best teachers and they could find her the right songs, producer, material.
And her career continued to build over years. After the '80s, there were still a handful of hits, her role in the Bodyguard. Whitney didn't seem fake and she didn't seem broken -- that was part of her appeal.
So what happened?
I don't own a TV; I didn't watch Whitney devolve in front of our eyes, live on the air with Bobby. But I heard about it. Everyone did.
I can tell you I wasn't surprised when she died at 48 of a heart attack. For some, Whitney's death came out of nowhere. Not for me. Isn't this what rampant drug use does to your organs?
I went to a party Friday night and danced to "How Will I Know?" Then I sat there ruminating not just on how great Whitney was, but on how she let us down. Nobody's talking about this. But she was the voice of a generation, and she had the potential to be a leader, a role model for a generation too.
But she turned her back on us, and on herself. Why???
Well, my friend Cami found this on a UK blog yesterday. And perhaps here's our answer.
Whitney's REAL tragedy was giving up her greatest love of all - her female partner Robyn Crawford
20th February 2012
I met Whitney and her female partner at the Reach Out & Touch HIV vigil in London in 1991.
Whitney spoke movingly in support of people with HIV, at a time when many other stars kept their distance. Her support was much valued.
She advocated the welfare and human rights of people with HIV. It was a commendable stand.
Hugs: Whitney, (left) with Bobby Brown, mother Cissy and (right) Robyn Crawford who many believe to be her one true love
I have, in the past, declined to name Whitney’s female partner. But most of the media have since named her as Robyn Crawford.
When I met them, it was obvious they were madly in love. Their intimacy and affection was so sweet and romantic.
They held hands in the back of the car like teenage sweethearts. Clearly more than just friends, they were a gorgeous couple and so happy together. To see their love was infectious and uplifting.
Whitney was happiest and at the peak of her career when she was with Robyn. Sadly, she suffered family and church pressure to end her greatest love of all.
She was fearful of the effects that lesbian rumours might have on her family, reputation and career. Eventually she succumbed. The result? A surprise marriage to Bobby Brown.
The marriage was a disaster. Bad boy Bobby was never her true soul mate. Giving up Robyn – they’d been inseparable for years – must have been emotionally traumatic.
Whitney’s life started going downhill soon afterwards. Previously wholesome and clean-living, she went on drink-and-drug binges – evidence of a troubled personal life and much unhappiness.
It seems likely that the split with Robyn contributed to her substance abuse and decline.
There is a known correlation between denial of one’s sexuality and a propensity to self-destructive behaviour. Homophobia undoubtedly added to the pressures on Whitney and hastened her demise.
Soon after her very sad death, I was quoted as saying that Whitney was happiest when she loved a woman. Some fans accused me of ‘insulting’ and ‘smearing’ her.
You can read the whole article here:
Whitney's demise seemed to coincide with her leaving her lover, Robyn. See her family told her it would ruin her. Her church told her it would ruin her. And most frightening of all, perhaps, the music industry of the '80s & '90s said it would ruin her.
So she let the shame and silence and giving up who she really was, or who really loved, eat her from the inside out.
I guess it's not just LGBT teens who commit suicide because they think the world will never take them the way they are. It appears that Whitney did it too.
It's too bad she didn't believe more in the message of her own music.
"The Greatest Love of All" is still my favorite Whitney song. It always will be.
Watch her sing it here: http://youtu.be/gvPYXHM94DQ
* * * * *
- Is music worse off for having made it on primetime TV??
The Giants take the Bowl & I remember how much I hate TV
If my grandfather were still alive, I'm sure he would've been shouting like never before last night -- especially when the Giants made that great catch in their final rally, one toe hanging onto the sideline to complete the pass before cascading out of bounds.
Hell, if my grandfather were alive, he probably would've gotten out of that black armchair to do a little dance in his TV room... The Giants won the Superbowl. I don't think this ever happened in all those years he sat, shouting at the screen through my childhood.
Like most musicians, or intellectuals, or recent transplants to Texas, I mostly pretend to love football. What I REALLY LOVE are shows like Friday Night Lights, where football is only a pretext for delving into humanity and small town life and our hopes and dreams.
But I do understand the game enough to know that that was quite a game last night. It did come down to the 4th quarter. It wasn't a blowout like so many Superbowls I've seen.
The TV that surrounded it, on the other hand, was so damn manufactured.
What do you have when you string Madonna, C-Lo, MIA, Nikki Menage, and 1,000 gladiators together?? ... A shitshow, a fake parade, anything but music.
Madonna imitating Lady Gaga (who was originally imitating Madonna) is too much to bear. The stunts overshadow anything resembling melody or rhythm or authentic emotional expression.
Where is the Madonna of my youth? I'd like her to stay edgy or young, or become something entirely different I can respect (which I believe she has but mostly keeps hid). I know rock stars can't stay the way they were, nor can they endlessly keep creating art as relevant as their heyday, but must they go out in a parade of cashing-in capitalism?
Madonna then -- http://youtu.be/ftXHKfbXeBM
Yes, that's right. Let me say it.... in the year of the 99%, so much shameless capitalism, the selling of everything, at any price, and pretending that shows like The Voice are actually how musicians make it today, but copping to some caricature in front of a canned audience, is INSULTING!
You know why people love football? Because getting your ass kicked on a field is real. It's visceral. No matter how two-dimensional some of these celebs may act off the field, when the clock's running, they have to bring it.
But musicians in the year 2012? No, I guess not.
Almost makes you wish MTV had never happened. Almost makes me embarrassed ever to have loved some of these stars (ahem, MIA, did you have to?). Is it so hard to descend gracefully into a world of slightly less recognition? Or slightly older & less hyper-sexualized existence? Or music over stunts? MONEY IS EVERYTHING to these artists, and you know it.
I'll give props to the clap-stomp beat of the marching band, but the M's on their shirts, we idolize on the altar Madonna makes me gag. & Like a Prayer will forever remain a killer song, but one that should be performed at the Apollo or some Southern black church with a gospel choir, where music can still move you.
After last night, I'm so ready to return to my TV-less apartment, turn my amp up to 10, and make some music. You know the kind that rumbles in your belly, and takes you by storm, and is there, without costumes, moves you all the more because you hear it, you feel it, you don't have to see it on a HD screen.
Madonna now -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Be7FG5DPWKY
* * * * - lyrics on the cutting room floor
In journalism school, there was a common saying, "Kill your babies."
What it means is, no matter how brilliant that line you wrote is, all that matters if how it fits into the whole. If you want the whole thing to be brilliant, it's about flow. It's about order, and importance.
You just can't cram all the good ideas and expect for it to radiate awesomeness. What it'll radiate is cobbled together'ness.
I'm working on a new song this week. After several frustrating hours of coming up with cool parts that were going nowhere, this great melody jumped into my head.... and the thing that's most important in the writing process clicked into place: I knew what I wanted to say.
It's a song about feeling lost inside yourself, and knowing if someone outside yanks hard enough, they can bring you back.
Here's the thing though. Of the 6 or so stanzas I sculpted, listening back, they're not quite right. The sentiment is right, but the images are wrong. I need something more physical, more forceful, more tangible, less metaphorically poetic. So I'll throw these ones out.
But I couldn't bear to do that without at least printing them here first.
So here are the lyrics I'm leaving behind & some of my thinking about the true direction this song needs to go in.
Just hit me with your sureshot
I need a dose of what you got
Take your aim & I’ll be ok
Just hit me with your heartbeat
Stronger ‘til I move my feet
& I’ll be ok
Just lend me your anchor
Before my ship drifts under
Be my Milky Way & I’ll find a way
Just show me your sweet side
If I could, I’d give you mine
Take me inside & I’ll be revived
Just give me that one thing
The one that keeps me dreamin’
& In spite of everything,I’ll be ok
here's the new direction.
Smile
Stomp
Heartbeat
Arms hands
Louder stronger harder tighter all connote intensity
Do you all struggle to leave some of the good stuff on the cutting room floor? II'm with you.
And thanks for reading.
~jessie
* * * * * - the power of a good dance song I've been thinking about dance songs recently... For one thing, I'm nearly done writing the Please, Please Me's very first dance number. To help get unstuck with that last verse, I've been doing some research. I asked many of you to send me your fav dance songs and have been listening on youtube.
Reaffirmed, I hate dance music! Soo shallow & that terrible drum sound.
Songs about dancing, however, are a different story. Mostly, I've come back to old favs -- Bruce Springsteen's Dancing in the Dark & Billy Idol's Dancing with Myself... I'm even partial to Nouvelle Vague's remake.
Also, I feel this pull -- perhaps we can blame it on how normal & stereotype-affirming a lot of music being blasted on the radio & in stores is today -- to find something that speaks to the feminist ethic. The way a woman is able to have power by claiming her own pleasure, losing herself in music, moving in a sexual way for the mere sake of having it, owning it, showing it, but not sharing it.
Have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to your favorite song, shouting at the top of your lungs?
How do you feel after?
REBORN
Of course, men can derive power or a sense of self by giving themselves to the music too. Just watch Bruce swivel his hips and beg for salvation.
But I keep picturing it as a scene in a 1970's Dolly Parton movie, and wonder why I can't find it any films today.
There's that one image I'm looking for that's just out of reach. The one I need to finish this song.
A working class woman who toils to pay rent, for her kids, parents, boyfriend, or just to keep it together -- no fancy clothes, no fancy car. But once she steps on the dance floor, the beauty and power and sexuality she possesses is undeniable.
If you asked me what the Please, Please Me is trying to convey, what makes us unique... it's this.
We ain't rich, we ain't always beautiful, and we may not be the best at everything -- but when we do it, we own it. And rock 'n roll can lead the way.
ps-- this is why I love the Arcade Fire. they stand up for the not rich 'n beautiful.
pps-- that's totally Courtney Cox in the crowd scene. Love you Bruce!
WATCH BILLY IDOL -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FG1NrQYXjLU
- i always wanted to be a comic book hero...
... & now, thanks to Wayne Bertsch aka Barfly at Nuvo.net, I am!!!
The Please, Please Me immortalized in comics
 |
| From Wayne Bertsch's column at nuvo.net found here. |
If any of you are lucky enough to come visit Austin this spring, a print will be hanging in our practice studio, aka my kitchen next to the drums.
I met Barfly one year ago at a show... he promised me if we came back to Indy, he'd do a writeup on us. Thanks for remembering, Wayne!
ps-- Indianapolis is a tricky city & we are looking for suggestions of places that a) kick ass, b) pay, c) are not loud rock venues, and d) where other cool musicians like to hang out. If you're friends w/ the My Old Kentucky blog crew... please let 'em know how much we'd like to play one of their parties in spring.
* * * *
