Maybe the most important musical revelation to me in the autumn of 1990, the beginning of my senior year in high school, was my first real obsession with a female singer/songwriter. It was Sinéad O'Connor, and the song that started it all was actually not even written by her, but by Prince. "Nothing compares 2 u" was a huge hit, with a a gorgeous music video and I truly loved it. I might not have ventured past the single if it weren't for a group of new and unlikely friends.
My stepfather at the time, Jerry, worked with a girl called Michelle; pale, dyed red hair, sweet and cool. One day she and her boyfriend, Raul had to drop by the house for some reason. We all sat around talking. I seem to remember complaining about this teacher I had - Dr. Lloyd? He was my humanities/creative writing teacher and was pretty feminine. I said some really homophobic things about him, which I now know is a pretty normal thing for someone in the closet full of internalized homophobia, etc. But despite me making a total ass out of myself, they still asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with them some time. I totally did because, to paraphrase Alabama in True Romance they were so cool! They had another friend, Angie, who joined us, riding to the movies in Raul's little yellow MG convertible, practically having to sit in Michelle's lap. It became my Friday nights for a while, going to the movies or just hanging out with them. They introduced me to thrift stores, hair dye and attempted to introduce me to marijuana. I remembered Nancy Reagan and just said no.
What I'm most thankful for is the fact that they introduced me to lots and lots of really good music. Sinéad, The Cure, Ofra Haza, Tracy Chapman and most importantly: 'til tuesday. [see track 19] I had been familiar with Sinéad's single and with Tracy Chapman's "Fast car," which was by then a couple of years old. Raul & Michelle had the Tracy Chapman album and played it a lot and it was just so beautiful that I couldn't stop listening. When I got my first CD player on my 16th birthday, they gave me Sinéad's I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got and Tracy Chapman, still two of the most perfect albums I have ever heard. Between that and 'til tuesday, my love for women who write and sing songs began in earnest. When anyone asks me what kind of music I listen to, I usually just sum up with "girls with guitars."
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