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The Muted Sound-Tracks Of Women: The Second Annual Women, Rock! And Politics Conference At UGA

by Casey DeHoedt
05/29/2008

May 30-31st is the 2nd annual Women, Rock! and Politics conference held at UGA’s Edge Recital Hall (30th), and Tasty World (31st). Keynote speaker is Gretchen Phillips of Two Nice Girls. The conference focuses on issues of gender and identity in music and music performances.

Oh man! Two whole days??? Why does this rag even matter?

Well...

In 1967 Aretha Franklin took Otis Redding’s words and demanded R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Not much, just a little bit. In 1982 Joan Jett overpowered the Arrows’ declaration of a love for rock’n’roll... and people put a dime in the juke box to hear it. Two years later Cyndi Lauper sang Robert Hazard’s lyrics, and reminded us all that girls just want to have fun. And in 1995 Gwen Stefani’s dynamic range criticized a world that saw her as just a girl... And in 1995, she had finally had it up to “here.”

Having spent my entire life immersed in and identified with rock music I can only stand back in awe of its beauty and power. I wholly feel that its sounds are not merely sonic vibrations perceived by the delicate mechanism called the ear. Rather, it’s a vehicle for expression: it sings of society, of ourselves. It is boundless and unanchored by “rules.” The disenfranchised gather merrily ‘round the amps, they flock to the record stores, and they are inspired take care of the business that is mun-daily life.

Rock is a way of life. Ozzy Osbourne purportedly sold his soul to have it.

Yep, that good old rock’n’roll just soothes the soul. It has the ability to free our minds, our voices and I believe that in its more intense moments, it can briefly rid us of society’s inhibiting forces.

And whether you’re working on a chain-gang, or if you generally can’t get no satisfaction we can agree that when our audio equipment blares for three minutes fifty seconds, we transform into eagles flying to the sea. In those three minutes and fifty seconds we’re not gonna take it (anymore). We privately – or publicly – fight for our inalienable rights to pure and simply party.

Yes, for most, rock is pure and absolute freedom. Unfortunately, it isn’t free for all to participate in, or even enjoy, as equally.

It should be no surprise that rock’s history is pretty much a sausage fest. It’s not readily known why that is. Some believe it to be a lack of participation by women. Some go so far as to claim that “women just didn’t” or “couldn’t.” But women have always been there making music: Nancy Sinatra, the Wilson sisters of Heart, Patti Smith, PJ Harvey. We all know these names, but when asked to give a top 50 list of rock legends, these names are low, if at all present, on the list.

So were they just not as good?

Spending about four years solidly concentrating on this I now believe that’s still not the answer. No, I believe that the industry of yore - let’s say fifties to about the seventies - had certain marketing ideas of how one shouldn’t or should make music based on those old-fashioned ideas of gender roles. The Beatles shocked the world with their unruly anarchist mop-tops, while the Supremes stood poised and pretty in their conformed chiffon gowns. Syd Barrett’s breakdown made him a tortured genius; Britney’s psychological tragedy makes her a media joke... Keith Richard’s drug use made him the guy to party with, but who wants to party with – or listen to – Amy Winehouse?

While the cultural factors abound, it was during this “golden age” that ears, eyes and hearts of rock and roll clung to what ought to be rock: mandates, rules that anchor. And they’ve stuck. And they say the Rolling Stones gather no moss?

No, Nancy Sinatra sang “Sugar Town,” too sweet to compete with the burning sensation “Light My Fire.” Should she have sung “Pour Some Sugar on Me” instead?

As a modern day woman, as a nineties girl, attempting to be a “rock chick” I’ve struggled with the gender stigmas in rock. Yes, I play guitar, bass, and some drums. No, I don’t sing! Yes, I learn Hendrix. No, I don’t want to play Lisa Loeb’s “You Say” on an acoustic. Yes, I really want to participate in an involved conversation about Randy Rhoads’s solo technique, so stop condescending and assuming that I’ll sit silently in the corner listening to Jewel.

Yes, I’ll admit that as an awkward confused adolescent “Just a Girl” offered me comfort and provided some answers. So what??? Like I care that you think it’s just a poppy “chick” song. Stop criticizing me for it. Can we for a second mention that you’ve air-guitared “Bring Your Daughter to the Slaughter?” And while we’re at it, let’s talk about Jewel... Let’s play “You Say” on acoustic. Why not?

No, for girls and other socially marginalized identities the freedom of rock is limited, which means it isn’t really freedom at all. It isn’t merely who’d been on stage... but who’s been on stage determines who can or should be on stage, who could even dream of being on stage. It isn’t that we’re afraid of breaking a nail if we pick up a guitar, but we’re shown that the closest we’ll ever get to a rock star is in the queen sized bed of an Omaha Marriot.

But hey, if we’re young, thin and pretty enough to squeeze ourselves into a Catholic school girl outfit we might persuade some boy to hit us one more time.

So what am I “bitch-ing” about? Well, too many times people say “there are women in rock.” Agreed, some things have been achieved. But this issue isn’t over. There are women all over music. But do we call it rockin'? There are some women in rock. But there should be more.

No, I’m bitch-ing about equality. Are there as many females as males? Why isn’t there? Do we seriously consider those fantastic femmes, who’ve eeked into rock, to be as creative, as dynamic, or as talented as most half-assing leather clad males shredding out cliches on guitars? Why is it, when a mellow ballad is performed by... hmmm... Bon Jovi, or Guns’n’Roses, that its detriments are characteristics normally associated femininity?

These are serious questions to ask because they resonate in a person’s everyday life. I feel the lack of amplification can only lead to more distortion of female identities. Thank the rock gods that I somehow heard Veruca Salt at an impressionable age, because I know I wouldn’t be writing right now had I not.

A conference such as the Women, Rock! and Politics ask these questions and it hits the overdrive pedal that creates “just” a girl. It isn’t merely applauding devalued and unheard music. It isn’t sitting around saying “Damn the Man!” It’s because Bikini Kill demanded a revolution – girl style – NOW!

This conference is about not taking it anymore. It’s about “sisters doing it for themselves.” If blaring the Bangles helps us get through a Manic Monday, then we are going to stop turning it down just so someone else can listen to Bachman Turner Overdrive comfortably. We’re going to stop hiding our pleasure and apologizing for our taste just because someone decades ago called it “lame.”

The arena of rock has always echoed the rallying cry for freedom and social consciousness. In that spotlight, this conference is very much rock’n’roll. It’s about broadening the social conscious in order to open the venue for more people to participate in the freedom rock can offer. This conference has the ability to free the mind so that other voices will be free to sing.

I’m just a girl, I just wanna have fun, and I love rock’n’roll. But I can’t get no satisfaction all I’m askin' is for a little respect.

For more details on the Women, Rock! and Politics conference, visit their website.