12 March 2009

Mountain/Molehill: Overcoming gender at open mic


I've been playing guitar for about 13 years, but I'm not sure my musical talents would show it. When I was younger and just starting to contort my hands into power chords, I probably thought that by this point, I would have memorized all of Jimmy Page's solos and became a rock star already, and that Korn and Limp Bizkit would still be my favorite bands.

But at any rate, I can at least say that playing music for so long has given me a good ear for figuring out how to play things. I've got a pretty good sense of relative pitch. The best way I can describe this talent is from an episode of my dorm days at NIU; someone had the Garden State soundtrack (remember that?) on and I made a goal to try and figure out the chord progressions to "Caring is Creepy" by the Shins before the song ended. And my success led to days and days of sweet college ladies spending the night in my room... *sigh*...

At any rate, picking up songs on guitar easily has morphed into my own brand of fandom, wherein I hear a song I really like, play it a handful of times on repeat and then reach for the guitar to see if I can play the song myself, and then go to my nearest Open Mic night, to play the same couple of originals I've had in notebooks from high school with the cover song, the one I really want to play sandwiched in between.

Perhaps part of this is an extension of those daydreams I'd have while listening to rock music, where I'd put myself in the band, filling in on guitar or vocals or drums... or bass, if it had a really sweet part. All the best songs are the ones I can easily see myself tearing through with an imaginary band I keep meaning to physically organize in the real world, but never do. But another part is an idea that if I ever got married and started a family, it'd be fun and unique to play indie songs of the early millennium as lullabies.

Anyway, the point of this blog is that I've come across a long-standing problem with my whole covering-my-favorites formula - crossing the gender line. Lately I've been obsessing over To Bring You My Love by PJ Harvey and I'd love to release that obsession towards some apathetic-yet-polite coffee house crowd. But Harvey's best songs are all defiantly feminine, and I worry that if I performed, say "Send His Love to Me," or "C'mon Billy," an audience would either think I'm being ironic - "Oh hahaha, he's doing a lady's song!" - or get hung-up on the whole "Wait a minute, is he gay?" question and you know, not enjoy the song.

Changing the lyrics to suit a male singer are not an option. With few exceptions (oh, sweet "Tainted Love") I've cringed when I heard this done, like when the Cowboy Junkies covered "Run for Your Life" on that Rubber Soul tribute album, or that little known Phil Spector cover from Beach Boys, "Then I Kissed Her." So there will be no "Send HER Love to Me," anytime soon.

I think the biggest hang-up is that I want to convey a sincere appreciation for the songs I like that happen to be written from a female perspective. But as a 6' 3" bearded dude, it probably won't be looked on as such.

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Post-script: Why don't I just unleash my PJ Harvey obsession on the apathetic-but-polite blog readers?

"C'mon Billy" video (1995)


Before I came around to the album that features this song, I would tell my friends that her song "Rid of Me" scared me as much as it kind of turned me on. Harvey's just an expert of straddling fences like that, and the video shows her being a seductress, heartbroken, insane, and strangest of all, normal.

"To Bring You My Love" (Live at Big Day Out Festival, 2003)


Are there more women like her in the world? Are they single?

Special thanks and full disclosure go to an ex-girlfriend (who I'm not sure would want to be named on the blog, so I'll just leave it at that) who's own admiration of PJ Harvey led to mine.

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