A&E
NEWS
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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