You were born, and so you’re free.
So happy birthday.
Thus says the lyrics to the song "Born, Never Asked" by Laurie Anderson (left), who was born today–July 5–in 1947 (in the midst of the Roswell Incident, which might explain a good number of things about her).
Anderson is a performance artist and musician who was born in Illinois but these days hangs out in NYC (from what I can tell).
I first became aware of her back in the early 1980s when her album Big Science made it big–or as big as an avant garde album can make it, I suppose.
I recently discovered that several of Laurie’s albums could be downloaded from iTunes, and so I’ve been revisiting and enjoying the stuff she did back in the ’80s.
Here music is . . . hard to describe. You know what they say: "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture."
Basically, her music alternates between several different styles. Some of it is just strange and atmospheric. Then there are toe-tapping numbers, alternately instrumental or vocal, that incorporate elements of Rock and Pop.
The most unusual aspect of her music isn’t the sound, though. It’s the lyrics. Laurie has realized something that many Rock and Roll artists have: The lyrics of a song don’t really have to mean anything. They can just evoke an image, a mood, or a feeling. She also has realized something that many Rock and Roll artists have not: It’s okay to sing your lyrics intelligibly.
As a result, her music reminds me of a line that Woody Allen delivers in Zelig, describing baseball: "You know it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s just beautiful to watch."
That’s exactly the way I feel about Laurie Anderson’s music: It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just pretty to listen to.
What she’s trying to do (so far as I can tell) is not get at any Deep Meanings but simply evoke certain moods and feelings that have qualities of mystery and beauty and humor and even warmth.
At times Laurie piles up interesting poetic images, as in this passage from her song "Let X=X" (flashback to math class!) in which she describes getting a postcard from a person who has betrayed one and is now twisting the knife and who then (apparently) gets his comeuppance. Notice the way the individual lines build up these impressions, even though nobody would really write a postcard like this in real life:
I got this postcard, and it read. . . . It said . . .
"Dear Amigo, Dear Partner,
"Listen, uh, I just wanna say thanks, so . . . thanks.
Thanks for all the presents.
Thanks for introducing me to the chief.
Thanks for putting on the feedbag.
Thanks for going all out.
Thanks for showing me your Swiss army knife.
Oh, and uh, thanks for letting me autograph your cast."Hug and kisses, XXXX OOOO
"Oh, yeah. P.S.: I feel like I’m in a burning building . . . and I gotta go."
This is a poetic abstraction of a phenomena we are all acquainted with. In our lives virtually everyone has the experience of being kind to someone ("thanks for all the presents, thanks for introducing me to the chief"), only to have that person take advantage of our kindness ("thanks for putting on the feedbag. thanks for going all out") and betray and even injure us ("thanks for letting me autograph your cast").
When that happens, we don’t want to see the person simply get away with it. We want to see them find out that the sweet things they stole have turned sour, and Laurie covers that as well ("I feel like I’m in a burning building"). Laurie thus evokes in poetic form an aspect of human experience that will resonate with the audience (or at least those who have lived long enough to experience betrayal).
Not all of Laurie’s lyrics have this serious dimension to them. Some are aimed at getting a laugh, as in this passage from the song "Talk Normal":
I came home today, and both our cars were gone.
And there were all these new pink flamingoes arranged in star patterns, all over the lawn.
And then I went into the kitchen. . . . And it looked like a tornado had hit.
And then I realized . . . I was in the wrong house.
Laurie occasionally comes up with a sentence that she is probably the first person in the history of the human race ever to utter. My favorite is this:
I dreamed I had to take a test in a Dairy Queen on another planet.
There can even be an apologetic dimension to her lyrics. Recently I was writing an article on heaven for This Rock and was tempted to quote one of her lines (from the song "Language Is A Virus"):
Paradise is exactly like where you are right now, only much . . . much . . . better.
If you’d like to check out some of her material, I’d recommend her albums Home Of The Brave and Mr. Heartbreak as good, accessible starting points. The music on these is more up-tempo and has a feel-good aspect to it. It still doesn’t mean much, but then it doesn’t have to. It’s just pretty to listen to.
Or download Laurie music:
And to see her in concert is to watch a master perform.
She moves.
I saw her in concert, years ago, maybe a year or two after her indie concert movie was released. I had never heard a Laurie Anderson song before, and thought the performance, complete with wacky voice innotations and dazzling lights, were phenomenal. And yet… she got overtly political in the concert, even voicing her opinion, forcibly, on the whole pro-choice side, among others. In other words, I couldn’t work myself up to applaud at the end of the concert, even though she worked hard and had entertained me, because I did not agree with her, and her politics were a distraction. I wish she had more nonsensical songs at my concert.
Yeah, unfortunately, Laurie Anderson’s politics are predictably left of center. Her album “Mr. Heartbreak” featured a guest reading by Naked Lunch author and famous dope-head William S. Burroughs, which somewhat soured me on her afterward. The point of view of some of her material I find just deadening, like a shot of novocaine to the spirit.
She is, however, the only person labeled as a “performance artist” that I have found even remotely interesting and genuine. Credit where credit is due, she does write some catchy tunes. I still look forward to hearing “Sharkey’s Day” when it rolls around on my MP3 playlist.
When I saw her in the early 90’s in LA (at the Wiltern, upon which was based the design of Oz in the 1939 movie), she was mesmerizing. We were in the last row. Literally nosebleed seats. The only political statement she made at the time – that I recall, anyway – was about how women tend not to make the same amount as a man for doing the same job. She made it in a very humorous way, too. Don’t remember any pro-choice statements. It was just her on sage with the occasional band member just out of view. Glad I saw her. And I always loved the picture of her (from the cover of USA, I think, with the light in her teeth.)
And has anyone heard of the album David Byrne (of Talking Heads fame) did for Robert Wilson’s Knee Plays back around the time Laurie first came to national prominence? One song describes a person who follows another person through the grocery store buying all the same items the other buys in the hopes of becoming as happy, popular, successful, etc as they percieve that person to be. Very interesting comment on comsumerism. Very Laurie-like.
White lily…