stoutfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoutfellow) wrote2009-08-03 04:30 pm
stoutfellow) wrote2009-08-03 04:30 pm
Songs of Experience
Janis Ian released The Autobiography Collection, naturally enough, to coincide with the publication of her autobiography. Prior to buying the album, I didn't actually know much about her, as person or as singer. Of course, I knew her signature hit, "At Seventeen". I knew that she is a science-fiction fan, and that the day she was introduced to Connie Willis was the day she understood the stammering incoherence of her own fans. Beyond that, not much.
What can I say of the album? This: that I do not have any other album which packs such emotional punch for me. Songs of joy, of triumph, of defiance, of sorrow.... I'm sure much of what I react to is idiosyncratic, but, well, there it is.
Any discussion of Janis Ian has to begin with "At Seventeen". I probably don't need to say much about it, though; it's her most famous song, and made an infamous list of "Most Depressing Songs" some time back. The plight of a teenage girl, watching as others - more attractive, more athletic, wealthier - grab the prizes she longs for, is not exactly an unusual theme; but this one is told from the vantage point of later years. Though the teenager's situation is sad, there is an underlying message of survival (the phrase "ugly-duckling girls like me" slips by, almost unnoticed) that tempers it into something more than the usual angstfest.
"His Hands" is a terrifying account of a marriage. The unnamed husband was a great and gentle lover, and the temptation to stay with him was almost irresistable; but
"My Autobiography", by contrast, is just fun; the ostensible singer is parodically self-absorbed ("But enough about me / Let's talk about you / What do you think of me?") as she describes her forthcoming autobiography, confessing that much of it will be fictitious. (There's nobody else who remembers and can contradict her....)
"My Tennessee Hills" is a nostalgic song, but with a bit more edge than the usual.
"Tattoo".... What can I say? One line, I think, is enough: "Work makes us free", says the sign. Yes, that kind of tattoo. Some wounds can never be healed.
For some reason, it's "Ginny the Flying Girl" that is likeliest to reduce me to tears, despite the upbeat message of the song. It tells the story of a young girl with a vivid imagination, making up for her poor family's lack of resources. The last verse is the one that breaks me down:
"Through the Years" (not to be confused with the Kenny Rogers song of the same name) is a retrospective love song. The singer admits to the good times and the bad, the times when "feeling lucky was all the luck we had", and concludes with
Not every song on the album delivers a gut-punch. There are a handful of political songs: the satiric "God and the FBI"; "Society's Child", whose tale of interracial romance led to its being banned from the air in many places, back in the '70s; and the old antiwar standby, "Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye". Some of the songs deal with such traditional themes of pop music as loneliness ("Jesse") or anger at infidelity ("Stolen Fire"). The melancholy "I Hear You Sing Again"; the defiant "This Train Still Runs"; "Today You're Mine"; "Silly Habits" - these are good enough songs, but weaker ones than some of the others. All told, though, this is one of the strongest albums in my collection.
What can I say of the album? This: that I do not have any other album which packs such emotional punch for me. Songs of joy, of triumph, of defiance, of sorrow.... I'm sure much of what I react to is idiosyncratic, but, well, there it is.
Any discussion of Janis Ian has to begin with "At Seventeen". I probably don't need to say much about it, though; it's her most famous song, and made an infamous list of "Most Depressing Songs" some time back. The plight of a teenage girl, watching as others - more attractive, more athletic, wealthier - grab the prizes she longs for, is not exactly an unusual theme; but this one is told from the vantage point of later years. Though the teenager's situation is sad, there is an underlying message of survival (the phrase "ugly-duckling girls like me" slips by, almost unnoticed) that tempers it into something more than the usual angstfest.
"His Hands" is a terrifying account of a marriage. The unnamed husband was a great and gentle lover, and the temptation to stay with him was almost irresistable; but
He said, "I've broken stallionsSeeing that what he had learned from his mother, her children would learn from her, led her at last to flee. A shivery song.
I've broken mares too
Given time and the right frame of mind
I swear I'll break you"
"My Autobiography", by contrast, is just fun; the ostensible singer is parodically self-absorbed ("But enough about me / Let's talk about you / What do you think of me?") as she describes her forthcoming autobiography, confessing that much of it will be fictitious. (There's nobody else who remembers and can contradict her....)
"My Tennessee Hills" is a nostalgic song, but with a bit more edge than the usual.
When all my vows have been brokenIt's not just the harshness of an uncaring world that she sings of running from, but the prospect of her own failure, and it is this that separates it from, say, Dolly Parton's "My Tennessee Mountain Home". (Parton sang along with Ian on this song, as it happens.)
And my wild heart can't be tamed
When I've loved and lost once too often
And failure is my middle name
There's a place that holds forgiveness
And the promise of peace in despair.
"Tattoo".... What can I say? One line, I think, is enough: "Work makes us free", says the sign. Yes, that kind of tattoo. Some wounds can never be healed.
For some reason, it's "Ginny the Flying Girl" that is likeliest to reduce me to tears, despite the upbeat message of the song. It tells the story of a young girl with a vivid imagination, making up for her poor family's lack of resources. The last verse is the one that breaks me down:
Whenever the world won't bendDamn, I can't even write it without tearing up.
Whenever I need a friend
I just close my eyes and I reach for the sky
And I know I can make it again
Whenever my dreams run dry
Just when I need to cry
Whenever it looks too big or too tall
I remember that I can fly
"Through the Years" (not to be confused with the Kenny Rogers song of the same name) is a retrospective love song. The singer admits to the good times and the bad, the times when "feeling lucky was all the luck we had", and concludes with
What do people do
Who haven't got you
To lighten the tears
Through the years
Not every song on the album delivers a gut-punch. There are a handful of political songs: the satiric "God and the FBI"; "Society's Child", whose tale of interracial romance led to its being banned from the air in many places, back in the '70s; and the old antiwar standby, "Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye". Some of the songs deal with such traditional themes of pop music as loneliness ("Jesse") or anger at infidelity ("Stolen Fire"). The melancholy "I Hear You Sing Again"; the defiant "This Train Still Runs"; "Today You're Mine"; "Silly Habits" - these are good enough songs, but weaker ones than some of the others. All told, though, this is one of the strongest albums in my collection.