As the parent of a teenage daughter, I have, on almost a daily basis, been subjected to the "works" of Lady GaGa. While dance-pop isn't my usual cup of tea, I have at least tried to listen with a sympathetic ear. I wasn't that impressed. I've been called a music snob before, so maybe I think I'm just too darned high-and-mighty to listen to Lady GaGa. Maybe so. Or maybe not. Maybe she just isn't that great.
As of last night, I am convinced of the truth of that latter suggestion. Why last night? Because I, almost by accident, witnessed the true artistry and musical wonder of Rickie Lee Jones. The venue was small and only half-filled. Lady GaGa's personal entourage likely would have required more room than the entirety of Rickie Lee's audience. But it is always thus: sales and popularity have NO direct bearing whatsoever on the quality of an artist's work.
Rickie Lee Jones's performance was exquisite. Dressed in a frumpy black dress and shitkicker boots, she unleashed that voice, and those songs. Spanning a 30-plus career ain't easy in two hours, but after two hours it was like, "Where did those two hours go?" She even threw in a cover of David Bowie's "Rebel Rebel," and an arrangement of "Living It Up" that turned that little R & B ditty into a percolating rocker.
And to Lady GaGa fans: some day you might be lucky enough to see your musical tastes mature sufficiently enough to appreciate Rickie Lee Jones.
We don't deserve her.
No comments:
Post a Comment