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Inspired Bonham crushes doubts

By Joan Anderman, Globe Staff, 3/8/2001

These days there's little good news to report from the front lines of the war between art and commerce. So when a survivor turns up, armed with music that shines like a beacon on the pap-strewn battlefield, it's an event worth pondering. Maybe it's old-fashioned will, or crystalline vision, or a creative spirit that refuses to crumple on command. More likely it's a blend of talent and temerity, a state of frustrated grace bestowed on the precious few.

Singer, songwriter, guitarist, violinist, and former Bostonian Tracy Bonham is one of them. Her rise from Berklee student to club performer to modern-rock goddess in 1996 was meteoric - courtesy of the primal single ''Mother Mother'' from her Grammy-nominated debut album, ''The Burdens of Being Upright.'' The thrill ride came to a screeching halt, however, faster than you can say major label merger.

It would be more than four years, a dangerously long span in the mercurial world of pop, until Bonham released her sophomore CD, last year's ''Down Here.'' It was an artistic breakthrough: a hard, beautiful rock album, intellectually keen and emotionally piercing. But with neither an easy market niche nor the deep-pocketed promotional support of the label, the record tanked. She was devastated.

''I think it was a test,'' she says in a phone conversation before her Cambridge show at the Kendall Cafe Tuesday night. ''Things were so out of my control. The merger was the first big blow. [Her record company, Island, became part of Universal Music and merged with Def Jam.] Then came the rotating chairs. The people deciding my fate would be different every week. My mistake was putting all my faith in these people. I assumed that they would take care of me. And they had other things on their minds.''

Bonham endured a long stretch of mounting insecurity and consuming self-doubt. But she transposed tribulation into inspiration, and, in an unexpected streak of creativity, has been writing furiously for the past six months in her Brooklyn home.

''In the last few months, I've scared myself with thoughts of throwing in the towel. I felt like a leftover sandwich, trying to sell myself to a label that used to love me. I had to change that. I had to realize that when you believe you have the power, you do. I had to learn that the inspiration really does come from someplace else.''

Backed by her husband of two years, Belgian drummer Steve Slingeneyer, and local players Joe Klompus and Peter Adams on bass and keyboards, respectively, Bonham debuted seven new songs at the Kendall, plus a pair of tracks from ''Down Here'' and a manic cover of PJ Harvey's ''50 Ft. Queenie'' arranged for spoons, violin, and drums.

Both the performer and the material positively glowed. It's the rare rock artist who merges sophisticated musicianship and raw emotion, but here's a woman who can play wildly distorted violin, sing a pitch-perfect, powerhouse melody, and grin all at once. Her newfound sense of power coursed like fresh blood through the songs, which approached the broad pop classicism of Stevie Wonder.

The potency of lines like ''Sexy people sleep with their hairdos on,'' from the erotic monster mash ''Thumbelina,'' and ''I am a rock/That's what I do for a living/Look away'' from ''Wilting Flower,'' a jazz-infused piece she wrote about her mother's battle with breast cancer, were matched by a musical intelligence modern pop artists generally don't aspire to anymore. Wiry rock and soulful R&B, classical roots and a post-punk aesthetic twisted and twined into buffed, shimmering gems.

''My goal is to be hard to define, on principle,'' says Bonham, professing an attitude that's unlikely to get radio airplay. Then again, she's not sure that's what she's aiming for. ''The last four years have taught me that there's more to life than money and stadium concerts. There's more to life than waiting to make a record, waiting to go on the road, waiting to live my life. I decided I was just going to start living it.''

Her life plan includes recording the new songs for a CD, her last obligation in her Island-Def Jam contract. She doesn't know when she'll go into the studio. ''I don't even know if the songs have a common thread,'' Bonham said at the show. ''But they will.''




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