Village Voice, November 6, 1978: Difference between revisions
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Last May, I saw Linda Ronstadt perform in Oakland before 30,000 people, and I was knocked out. She closed with a version of Chuck Berry's "Back in the U.S.A." that had me shaking my head in wonder; I was sure the tune had never been done so well, so fast, so happily — not by anyone. Ronstadt went far enough into the song to suggest that, solely in the interests of justice, she ''would'' marry Jerry Brown, he ''would'' become president — and then together they would make "Back in the U.S.A." the National Anthem a lot of people have understood it to be all along. | Last May, I saw Linda Ronstadt perform in Oakland before 30,000 people, and I was knocked out. She closed with a version of Chuck Berry's "Back in the U.S.A." that had me shaking my head in wonder; I was sure the tune had never been done so well, so fast, so happily — not by anyone. Ronstadt went far enough into the song to suggest that, solely in the interests of justice, she ''would'' marry Jerry Brown, he ''would'' become president — and then together they would make "Back in the U.S.A." the National Anthem a lot of people have understood it to be all along. | ||
This was the last thing I'd expected. Ronstadt, to my mind, was close to the ultimate platinum lightweight; since nothing about her produced in me the helpless palpitations apparently common to members of my sex, I had to fall back on her music, and I found it thin (just about all of Simple Dreams), strained ("Love Has No Pride," "Down So Low"), automatic (this that or the other oldies cover) and, at its worst, philistine in its "interpretive" aggrandizement ("Rivers of Babylon," "Many Rivers to Cross"). She had her moments: there was "[[Willin']]," the gentle guttiness of "The Tattler," and "You're No Good," which cut Betty Everett's original all to pieces. They seemed like the inevitable but anomalous breakthroughs of a very determined and well-produced professional — a confused singer heading for the no-less-inevitable crunch when it became obvious her success was out of proportion to her talent and people just got tired of her. | This was the last thing I'd expected. Ronstadt, to my mind, was close to the ultimate platinum lightweight; since nothing about her produced in me the helpless palpitations apparently common to members of my sex, I had to fall back on her music, and I found it thin (just about all of ''Simple Dreams''), strained ("Love Has No Pride," "Down So Low"), automatic (this that or the other oldies cover) and, at its worst, philistine in its "interpretive" aggrandizement ("Rivers of Babylon," "Many Rivers to Cross"). She had her moments: there was "[[Willin']]," the gentle guttiness of "The Tattler," and "You're No Good," which cut Betty Everett's original all to pieces. They seemed like the inevitable but anomalous breakthroughs of a very determined and well-produced professional — a confused singer heading for the no-less-inevitable crunch when it became obvious her success was out of proportion to her talent and people just got tired of her. | ||
Since I came away from her show a convert, I no longer looked forward to such a fate for Ronstadt; instead, I looked forward to her next LP, and couldn't wait for "Back in the U.S.A." Well, we've all heard and probably forgotten "Back in the U.S.A.," and the album, ''Living in the U.S.A.'', is a good deal less than proof that Ronstadt will be able to make a real future for herself. | Since I came away from her show a convert, I no longer looked forward to such a fate for Ronstadt; instead, I looked forward to her next LP, and couldn't wait for "Back in the U.S.A." Well, we've all heard and probably forgotten "Back in the U.S.A.," and the album, ''Living in the U.S.A.'', is a good deal less than proof that Ronstadt will be able to make a real future for herself. |
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