Saturday, January 19, 2013

The First Time

The first time I heard Janis Joplin, I was in Junior High.  It was the Summer before my 8th grade year and I was at my friend's house.  She had the Pearl album, Me and Bobby McGee was the song she played.  I immediately had to buy the CD too (I am proud to say with 3 exceptions, I own everything released.  One item has never been opened as it is a limited edition).  I had never heard anything like it:  the rawness, you felt it, you knew, even when you you were 13 years old ("I figured it out at 13 years old...")

Over that school year, we drifted apart, her to her own blues and me to my world.  Two junior high friends would go through situations that year that even at 35 I can't fathom.  But my love for Janis and the Blues would only grow. In my early 20s, I would be the only white person and the youngest by generations to attend a tribute to Etta James' (one of Janis' favs) career (at the time, she was still alive, of course). I am not sure she, my friend, even knows (until she reads this) that she was my intro to this world.

Now let me be clear, my dad played Zeppelin, Floyd (my son, who he is with often sang 4 songs off The Wall for me the other day), Neil Young and Skynard.  He played Joe Cocker, Rush, Beatles, and Stones.  And yes, he played Janis.  But it wasn't until my pre-teen years that I heard Janis.

The thing about Janis is that you feel her, you feel the anguish, the talent, the confusion, the love, the pain, the want. I am often struck by the Sublime lyric that says with music, you feel no pain.  You feel it, people take drugs to numb it.  You feel it in your core and if you don't, you are listening to the wrong band/singer at the wrong time.

I am sure I drove many a high school boyfriend crazy with my love of a blues/rock singer, who died years before we were born.  Perhaps, being raised by a hippie dad and a not so hippie mom shaped me to my core.

Both my parents always supported this love, and when you have divorced parents, them agreeing on something isn't the norm.  My mom bought me books, my dad shared Woodstock and 60s and 70s knowledge.  Years later, You Tube would make many things "viewable" to a girl, who would never see a favorite live. I created a binder full of news articles, play bills, press releases, while I am certain there is far more out there than I have, it's my way of following someone who has been dead for over 30 years, but still lives through her art.

I've seen Love Janis, (of course, I own the actual book too) and I've seen A Night with Janis.  When my mom first took me to see Love Janis, I was nervous.  Who was Beth Hart and how would she be Janis?  It wouldn't work, I thought.  This is going to be disappointing.  Beth Hart was Janis, she was amazing.  She went on to have (last I knew) a tortured life of her own, I went on to buy her own actual CD.  By far though, as many Janis shows I have seen (and been nervous for) Mary Bridget Davies was the best Janis.  I forgot she wasn't Janis, I forgot it was a play, and for a few short hours I saw Janis live.

Throughout my 35 years, there have been trials, tribulations, second guesses, mistakes, love, heartbreak, joy, pure bliss.  I have, for the most part, stayed true to myself -- my passions, my beliefs, my respect and love for myself.  A woman, who was never truly able to do this for herself, has helped million of little girls do it for themselves. Janis will rock on in my house, in my heart, in my soul, because I feel it in my core.