(4 of 5)
And Lilith Fair should change it even more. McLachlan, in conceiving the event, drew inspiration from the proto-feminist Hebrew legend of Lilith, Adam's first wife. Unlike Eve, Lilith was not spawned from Adam's rib but was created by God out of dust, just as Adam was. But as soon as Lilith and Adam were joined together, they began to quarrel. Adam said: "It is your duty to obey me." Lilith replied, "We are both equal...and I will not be submissive to you." Set that last quote to music, and you'd have a fitting anthem for Lilith Fair.
McLachlan tried out the concept of an all-female tour on four test dates last year, expanding the idea this summer. "There wasn't necessarily a theme we were looking for, but we all wanted a diverse show," she says. "So [this year] we made sure to get people like Cassandra Wilson, who is totally doing her own thing with jazz and folk."
Wilson is happy to be involved. "The vibe that I bring to this is the voice of free black women," she says. "Black women who are confident, sure of themselves in their sexuality, confident in their spirituality." Yet more black artists deserve to be on Lilith's bill. Lilith organizers say they tried to reach out; Erykah Badu was offered a slot on the tour but turned it down. On the other hand, Laura Love, a black, folk-tinged, Seattle-based singer-songwriter with a fine new album, Octoroon, asked to be part of Lilith and was passed over (the organizers say that with 584 submissions, they couldn't take everybody).
Still, Lilith is a welcome development. Right now, pop music is flaccid. The prefab hype of Spice Girls, the sugar-shock kiddie ditties of Hanson, the admirable wholesomeness but inexcusable tiresomeness of Bob Carlisle, the horrific power screeching of Celine Dion--turn it off. Turn it all off. It's meaningless olestra music, artificial and nutrient-free.
The Lilith tour and the coffeehouse-pop crowd can help halt pop's garbage-chute slide. Such music, on the surface, is gentle enough to slip onto radio playlists, but down deep there are ideas, there is emotion, there is life: the haunting, melancholic feel of McLachlan's new tune Angel; Fiona Apple exploring her post-rape trauma on her heart-rending Sullen Girl; Erykah Badu imagining the life of a gangsta's girlfriend on her soulful Otherside of the Game. Other promising acts from this school are on the way. An advance copy of British trip-hop folkie Pauline Taylor's just-finished album indicates she is a blazing talent; Austin, Texas-based singer-songwriter Kacy Crowley is another one to watch, judging by an early listen to her confident debut, Anchorless; and Chantal Kreviazuk's just-out Under These Rocks and Stones is also a charmer.
Perhaps someday we'll see Taylor, Crowley or Kreviazuk at Lilith. McLachlan wants the tour to become an annual event; she even foresees a day when men are invited. (One of this year's bands, the Cardigans, has men, but the lead singer is a woman.) Says McLachlan: "We hope this will pave the way for more female performers. We hope it's a great thing for young women too. When I was growing up, we had very few role models to look up to. This is a great example of strong women out there doing something they love, doing something really positive."