Oh Janis with lungs like a train, Oh Joplin, no-one can scream as bizarrely as you. You are instantly recognisable, by ear or by sight, an enigmatic, charismatic queen. But how on earth did you romp your way into my life?
Scrolling through Spotify, I scanned every old playlist I could think of, queueing endless retro rhythms for my new radio show. As I inherited my parent’s music taste, what better idea than to combine loads of vintage tracks for my university radio listeners? Track after track, the past started to bore me so much, and all the 60s, 70s and 80s blurred into one. Until a little song called ‘Piece of My Heart’ popped up.
Electric guitars zapped through my headphones followed by this rough, raspy voice of a woman, and simply like that, I was fucking hooked. In a daze of awe, I fumbled to see who it is, and there she was, Janis Joplin. Her blend of soulful screeching and bluesy melodies was something that warmed my heart. I had never heard anything like her before. Then, the binge began. From live performances, to even unfinished performances, I truly became her late stalker.
But why stalk her? What appealed to me so much? Janis endured being labelled as the ‘odd one out’ and the ‘ugly duckling’ – she was called almost every horrid comment under the sun – in a hostile industry obsessed with sex appeal and grace. But she overcame it by becoming something so confident and so beautiful. A powerhouse of music. Her rugged looks and peculiar style made me feel so at ease over my own frizzy appearance. She was an inspiration and a celebration of humanity.
It’s safe to say her IDGAF attitude threw me over the edge. She was more than her music, she helped me grow (which only backfires when I’m drunk and attempt to sing like her, that’s when I really wish the confidence would maybe die down a little). She was indescribable to me, pure power like any true ‘great’, one step away from a human and another step away from a deity.
In the months that followed my discovery, it’s fair to say I went on a steep decline into an obsession. She was everything, an icon, a mentor and a somewhat cool role model – barre the alcohol and the drugs of course… Listening now, having crawled my way back from the heavy days of just repeat listening to her music and interviews, I still feel my cold heart light up a small flame in adoration each time I hear that track.
Though my trips to find her in the local record shops have gone amiss over the years, that doesn’t mean the search is over just yet. In many ways searching her music was searching for myself. Like any brilliant music, it says as much about you as it does anything.
Listen to Janis Joplin on Spotify and Apple Music.
