Janis Joplin's Greatest Hits - A Great Woman of Rock and Blues

2/1/11 – Janis Joplin’s Greatest Hits

Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got.
-Janis Joplin

I have trouble listening to Janis Joplin without thinking of a friend I was in Jazz Singers with back in college.  The girl could sing Joplin like no one’s business.  While everyone else would fill their vocal jazz rep performances with swinging standards, cool latin tunes, and lush ballads, and wander outside the box a bit with Joni Mitchell, Sarah would get up and shred her vocal chords to pieces on tunes like “Drop the Needle” and “Que Sera Sera.”  And own the shit out of them.  I had known of Janis Joplin forever – I mean, her name and a few of her tunes.  But ironically enough, it wasn’t until I heard Sarah sing them, I had never really known her music.  Listening to this CD, it’s weird – I hear Janis, but I picture Sarah Renfro singing them.

As a singer, listening to Janis’ vocal technique almost empathetically hurts my voice.  There’s so much strain on the voice, I can’t imagine it being healthy, much less comfortable.  I’m sure she probably had vocal nodes the size of grapefruits.  But her voice, tone, and style paved the way for the grungy, gritty women of rock – a genre even more male dominated back in the 60’s than it remains today.  I can’t imagine where Stevie Nicks and Alanis Morisette would be today were it not for Joplin.

“Piece of My Heart” opens this album filled with classic rock hits from the singer/songwriter.  While pretty simple as far as the writing goes, Janis’ oversinging and unbridled passion and energy push it (and many other tunes) over the top.  Gershwin’s classic “Summertime,” on the other hand, is brilliantly rearranged into a trippy psychedelic ballad.  Joplin’s vocals float on raspy vocal harmonics giving it a thin, brittle tone like a tenor sax playing at the top of its whistle register.  Her guitarist has a great subtle tone over the intro, but digs in heavier as the tune develops.   As far as covers go, this one’s a keeper.

“Try (Just a Little Bit Harder)” brings in a brass backup section, but Janis, more than perhaps any other singer overpowers the horn section.  The writing sounds like an old Motown group should have sung this piece, but as usual, Janis takes the reins and makes it her own.  “Cry Baby” is another cover of a Motown tune, originally performed by Garnett Mimms and the Enchanters in 1963.  The 6/8 feel is a little jazzier than most of the preceding numbers, and the infusion of blues and soul works well.

Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” is a well-covered single (with Wikipedia citing 37 different recorded versions,) and I’m not sure who I heard sing it first.  I’m certain it was an “easier,” smother version by a male singer… probably Johnny Cash or Kenny Rodgers.  I’m not as impressed with Janis’ version – I feel it lacks some of the honesty other singers have put into the lyric.  “Down on Me” is the first track I find truly forgettable – while it contains the same sounds and textures of the surrounding tracks, there’s nothing that really stands out here.

“Get It While You Can” is the closest thing to a ballad found on this collection.  A bluesy, piano and organ-filled jazz waltz, Joplin’s voice sounds more comfortable in a mid-low range, not bleeding through screams.  Regardless, while this is an energetic low point on this album, it’s still more raucous than the high points on some of today’s singers’ recordings.  “Bye Bye Baby” introduces a country vibe that doesn’t do anything for me.  I mean, it’s a complete departure from the rest of her work here.  While I realize this is a greatest hits album and the individual tracks were not intended as a cohesive album, this still seems really out of place.

“Move Over” also seems to go in its own direction, but its straight driving rhythm seems less strikingly out of place and instead more a development than a departure.  “Ball and Chain” provides a brief glimpse into the live Janis experience.  Taken from a live performance in Calgary, 1970, three months before Joplin’s death, features not only some amazing guitar solo work, but also a impromptu vocalese that gives way to a spoken hippie tirade on what’s wrong with the world today, prompting my roommate in the next room to chime in both “they don’t make them like they used to” referring to both the singer and the song, but also, “she was so stoned out of her gourd.”  Both statements I agree with…

In closing, I want to leave you with a glimpse of my friend Sarah performing Joplin’s “Mercedes Benz” with one of my piano teachers at a gig back in Dallas.  Expect to hear great things from her in the future.  And in some respects, she’s already outshining her inspiration and achieving what Janis never could.

A 28^th birthday.

Tomorrow – Chopin: Nocturnes

Next week – Revolver (The Beatles)