When I tell people I'm from Texas and sense judgement in their eyes (re: my entire time in San Francisco), I like to say "Janis Joplin is from there."
She was a bad ass.
"The Queen of Psychedelic Soul"
#46 on Rolling Stones List of Greatest Artists of All Time
A member of the rock-and-roll hall of fame
A trailblazer for female rock musicians.
"Janis put herself out there completely, and her voice was not only strong and soulful, it was painfully and beautifully real. She sang in the great tradition of the rhythm & blues singers that were her heroes, but she brought her own dangerous, sexy rock & roll edge to every single song. She really gave you a piece of her heart. And that inspired me to find my own voice and my own style."
- Stevie NicksShe was also very vulnerable.
I forget that legends can feel the same emotions as mere mortals.
I'm currently reading "Just Kids" by Patti Smith (a must read), and she describes her last interaction with Janis before her death.
Janis was in New York playing in Central Park and then met up with other artists afterwards for drinks at the Remington. She spent most of her night talking to a good-looking guy who eventually left with a prettier groupie.
Janis started crying and said, "This always happens to me, man. Just another night alone"
Patti took her back to the Chelsea Hotel and listened to her bemoan her fate. She then wrote her a poem:
I was working real hard
To show the world what I could do
Oh I guess I never dreamed
I'd have toWorld spins some photographs
How I love to laugh when the crowd laughs
While love slips through
A theatre that is full
But oh baby
When the crowd goes home
And I turn in and I realize I'm alone
I can't believe
I had to sacrifice youIn response, Janice said, "That's me, man. That's my song"
I guess we're all more alike (and vulnerable) than we think.
