But what the hell?”įor the next hour, longer than she would be onstage, Joplin addressed the reasons behind the pain in her voice - her years as the ugly duckling who was treated as an outcast in high school - and how music was the one thing that she could count on. Maybe it would add a couple of years to my life. I suppose I could eat organic foods, get eight hours of sleep every night, stop smoking - things like that. Sure, I could take better care of myself. Maybe they can enjoy my music more if they think I’m destroying myself. “People seem to have a high sense of drama about me. “That’s what I mean about writers,” she said. The only time she sat up was when I brought up the Garland comparisons. Clutching a whiskey bottle as she sprawled on a sofa, she went through a series of draining complaints about endless fights with business people and musicians as well as having writers continually asking her about where all the pain in her voice came from. The 26-year-old ragged-voiced singer from Port Arthur, Texas, who was known to take swigs of Southern Comfort between songs, was associated with sweaty blues clubs and rowdy rock venues.īut the Joplin/Bowl pairing was a triumph on both sides - one that would stand as the most memorable of the some 150 shows I saw there over my 36 years as the pop music critic of The Times, a list highlighted by such other giant talents as Dylan, Johnny Cash, Paul Simon, Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney, Elton John, Prince and Radiohead.ĭuring an interview in her dressing room earlier the day of the concert, Joplin was not reassuring. On paper, Joplin and the Bowl were a mismatch. The Bowl, which celebrates its 100th birthday this summer, had been built with the loftiest of intentions - the elegant summer home of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, the gorgeous gathering spot for the annual Easter sunrise services and a showcase for highly respected stars of Broadway, pop and jazz. In the most gripping moment, she later screamed (sang is too tame a word), “Come on, come on, come on, come on and take it / take another little piece of my heart now, baby.”įor 40 minutes Joplin was electrifying, and the experience was all the more striking because of the setting. She slowed only to grab a microphone from its stand before resuming her dash to the lip of the stage to be as close as possible to the fans. Janis Joplin raced onstage at the Hollywood Bowl on a September night in 1969 with the urgency of someone fleeing a burning building, her long reddish hair blowing in the wind.
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