Search for self brings stardom to Alanis Morissette

Search for self brings stardom to Alanis Morissette

By Dini S. Djalal

JAKARTA (JP): Ever since Billie Holiday let out a melancholy
wail, female singers and musicians have lamented the music
industry's rampant sexism.

The times are slowly changing. Bands such as Take That and
Boyzone are objectifying men rather than women. Not that female
objectification is obsolete -- for every teenybopper boy pin-up,
plenty of half-naked starlets struggle to catch the limelight.

But some aspiring pop stars are replacing their make-up
artists with bad attitudes, and great talent. The evolution from
Madonna to kd lang shows the strides women have made in getting
respect for their skills and not their looks.

It hasn't been easy, but survivors of the uphill battle are
overcoming the obstacles. It's no coincidence that Maverick
Records, the label that signed the platinum-selling Alanis
Morissette, is owned by reigning pop queen Madonna. The acclaimed
Me'Shell Ndegeocello, a shaven-haired, bisexual singer/
songwriter, is also on Maverick's roster.

Considering recent buying trends, Maverick's gender-sensitive
signing is not a gamble. Self-assured solo female artists are hot
on the charts. Sheryl Crow, Bjork and Liz Phair are proving that
a woman's place is not in the kitchen, but wielding a guitar
onstage.

None sell better than Canada-born Alanis. Her critically-
acclaimed album, Jagged Little Pill, has sold 14 million copies
worldwide and won several music awards. Millions of female fans,
screaming that she articulates their frustrations and
insecurities, have also been won over.

The fans are screaming worldwide, including in Jakarta. The
Alanis Morissette concert on Sunday at the Jakarta Convention
Center was a sea of confident young girls rather than pogo-ing
boys sweating it out in the moshpit. Concert promoter Java
Musikindo said that it was the most successful concert it ever
held, selling out weeks in advance.

"I like how she's really pretty but she doesn't dress up,"
said 17-year-old Mia, referring to Alanis' stage outfit of a
simple white shirt and black pants. "I like her lyrics. Some of
them are sad and not very confident, but that's how I feel too
sometimes," said 21-year-old Nanik.

Angry

It's debatable, however, if all her fans share her trauma of
boyfriends-gone-wrong, as she describes in the chart-topping You
oughta know:

Every time you speak her name/ does she know how you told me
you'd hold me until you died/ but you're still alive/ and I'm
here to remind you/ of the mess you left when you went away/ it's
not fair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me.

"We may not have the exact same experiences," said Nanik, "but
I can understand her anger."

But Angry White Female is not what Alanis wants to be
remembered for. "I was quite angry when I wrote the songs, but it
was written for the sake of release," said Alanis. "There are a
lot of positive things on the record. And in the future, I don't
know if I'm going to write about solely negative things," Alanis
told The Jakarta Post.

Alanis adds that becoming a role model was not on the agenda
in her journey of self-discovery. "Being a role model has come
about by default, coming about from my self-esteem getting
higher. But I don't feel like I'm doing it on their behalf. I'm
just continuing on my own path," said Alanis.

It's a path that's meandered around many bends. Twenty-two
year-old Alanis is a veteran entertainer, having been a TV star
in Canada in her early teens and a dance-pop diva by the time she
was 16.

Alanis does not regret her previous incarnation as a wiggling
lycra-clad Paula Abdul clone. "In the 1980s, I thought that music
was about entertainment. I wasn't fearless enough to write in a
vulnerable way," said Alanis.

After moving to Los Angeles to try her luck there, her musical
style became less commercial. "I lived alone for a few years and
came to terms with what I really wanted to do. There was some
concern about how my music was going to be categorized, but I
said don't worry about it."

Alanis adds that when she started believing in her true self,
success came. "Ironically when you don't seek approval, you get
the approval that you don't seek, because you don't really care."

As for the future of her career, Alanis says that she will
follow what her heart tells her. "Now I will be continually
motivated by my own evolution," said Alanis. She describes her
next album, due out next year, as also being a "release" but more
trance-like.

Alanis unveiled some of these new songs at the concert. True
to her word, Camp note began with a trip-hop beat which then
accelerated to blaring hard riffs. Warping on feedback, the
guitars droned on and on as Alanis tossed her long mane into a
trance-like frenzy. The teenage audience didn't know what to make
of the headbanging spectacle, and some made their exit.

What the kids wanted to hear are the chant-along hits, the
ones they can flick their lighters to. These are Alanis'
specialty. When she sang the infectious Hand in my pocket, her
beautiful voice was barely heard over the audience caroling I'm
high but I'm grounded/ I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed/ I'm lost but
I'm hopeful.

This is also an audience that religiously watches her videos,
mimicking her hand movements when she sings I've got one hand in
my pocket, and the other one in a peace-sign. It was one of the
few times Alanis stepped out of her self-absorbed performance,
and smiled at her fans.

After baring her vulnerabilities in the song, Alanis says a
polite "thank you", contradicting the emotional honesty of the
music with her detached stage persona. Alanis may boast the gifts
of provocative penmanship and a soaring elastic voice, but her
rapport with the audience lacks intimacy or spontaneity. Just
because Alanis sings about intimate issues to her fans does not
mean she connects with them onstage.

After several charged performances of combative songs, her
anger began to fail her. The audience was jumping up and down to
You oughta know, but Alanis seemed tired running around the stage
spewing hostile bile. Again, she ends the vocal diatribe with a
quick "thank you", then praises the crowd for being "a beautiful
audience". Are we beautiful when we cheer on her character
assassination of old lovers?

When she finished her finale, a hair-raising (or in Alanis'
case, hair-tossing) version of Wake up, the crowd was so stunned
by her whipping mane that they forgot to clap when she left the
stage. In fact, everyone just stood there waiting for her to
return without little applause for her, or the band's,
performance.

Knowing the routine of concerts, of course Alanis returned,
launching into a lilting R.E.M.-like new song. When the melody
lifts, Alanis distorts her piercing cry into the nasal warble she
is now famous for. But her mannered singing eventually loses its
edge and vibrancy. Sinead O'Connor has also been accused of stale
vocal affectations, and Sinead shows more vocal versatility.

But the audience, some of whom were content to sit on the
ground without seeing the stage, didn't care if she whistled or
growled. They were happy just to sing with her. The self-
consciously clever Ironic (It's a traffic jam when you're already
late/ it's a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break) was greeted
with choruses louder than Alanis' voice.

When she raced across the stage for another crowd-pleaser, the
instructive You learn, she seemed to be drunk on her triumph over
despair. You grieve, you learn/ you choke, you learn/ you laugh,
you learn/ you choose, you learn, Alanis sings with the crowd, at
last feeding on her own catharsis as well as the audience's.
Scathing as the lyrics may be, these are still camp-fire songs
for today's disillusioned but hopeful youth. Alanis is the sharp-
tongued earth mother leading the caustic sing-along.