I’ve never met Rex Wockner. Came close. We have mutual friends, but I’ve never met him. I’d like to, he’s kinda cute. After this column we just might meet…via e-mail. Love his column (Wockner Wire) but that last one (“It’s back” WCT June 27) left me a little miffed. Not the article itself (the overall apathy/question of what Gay Pride Parades are about—agreement here), but the cracks about “lesbian folk singers and comedians” being “muzzled.” And then an aside about socially conscious lesbian folk singers being forced to party separately. After witnessing Ellen Rosner and Ripley Caine’s LadyFest benefit at Schuba’s, I’ve decided I love lesbians, I could do with more of them in my life. And I’m definitely looking forward to LadyFest Aug. 16-19 in Chicago.
Though not quite an answer to the mammoth (and therefore impersonal) Lilith Fair, LadyFest promises to be urbane (where L.F. was held at the World/Tweeter Center…all steel, plastic, and stuck in the boonies, LadyFest is in Bucktown), promotional in a friendly way (a fest, not an EVENT, you can take it at your leisure) and overflowing with varied local and national acts (smaller can definitely be better). As a teaser, Rosner and Caine are great places to start.
The most striking thing about Caine and her group is the sound. For starters, Caine has a startlingly rich and clear voice, as cutting as diamonds slicing glass, but so varied it suggests an over-saturated Kaleidoscope. Backed by a percussionist and a bassist, this trio evokes a mesmerizing hushed stillness. It reminded me of the Electra/Asylum singer/songwriter albums of the early ’70s (Carly Simon, James Taylor) but more specifically of Roberta Flack’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”
But this crystalline symphony is so varied and put to such a disarming use that it defies that confessional trap. Most telling are Caine’s covers. The Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbitt” starts out like the original, but there’s something in Caine’s voice (warm glass, ghosts, experience?) that goes beyond Grace Slick’s determined reading. By the time she’s joined by her trio the song steers away from hard rock, into something blatantly honest, really kinda scary. I had mentioned her take of the Doors’ “Light my Fire” in my review of Queer is Folk, and after a second listen I know I wasn’t wrong. Where Jim Morrison sounded like he was romancing a woman like a thing (another get-high), Caine is aiming at a real person. It’s a quiet, personal, even ferocious spin—not so much about lust or an artificial high, but more about progress between two individuals, making things work—getting together in a naked (but not necessarily sexual) way. I don’t think the Lizard King could handle it.
On the otherhand, Ellen Rosner comes on like a war…startling voice, punchy band, strong direction. Less like a feather and more like an aircraft carrier parting the surf…and all the more humane for it. But Rosner’s band is musically cutting, smart, maybe with Strain Busy Sky the most intelligently composed material in Chicago. My favorite is “The Perfect Malcontent”…which on this Gay Pride Sunday got under my skin. It reminded me of an older gay cousin who told me that when I got older all the gay fun (bars, discos, lovers, lotsa sex) would be mine. On my way home I kept seeing all the merriment on Halsted and Rosner’s refrain came back (“I want it, I want it … you promised me you promised me…”). I got over it in an hour (now I’m not so sure I do want all that gay fun) but I felt “The Malcontent”‘s disappointment.
The Ellen Rosner Band has a certain refreshing openness…like a blast of frigid air in the middle of August. This was the first full set I’d seen of them (I’d seen them at benefits, contest concerts, theme night shows and QIF) and it was everything those two- or three-song gigs promised. Take charge, upfront, refreshing, enrapturing…everything a live set could be. I think I’m in love.
As for Rex, well … maybe you’re in the wrong state. Or maybe you should see different lesbian folk singers. Or maybe you should move back to Chicago and dive right into our folk scene. And of course allow me to play with your ears.