It took me a long time to discover the Blues. When I did, I fell hard for the old time guys, having had my fill of Patsy Cline in my decade of bartending. Mississippi and Delta Blues made my heart happy and my mind calm. Happily, Leadbelly eventually brought me to Oddetta, who covered many of his songs and my eyes were opened. Janice Joplin took on a new depth. I discovered Native American singer Joanne Shenandoah. And rediscovered Nina Simone. A woman of amazing talent and power, who left America to live in Europe because of the sometimes subtle and often violent rascism she saw and sang about.
In her song about lynching, she tells of the hanging bodies as "...strange fruit...". In another, she is a hotel maid, waiting as a black ship lurks in the harbour. At her bidding, it will destroy the town, bringing the whites to her to be killed on her command. This song is furious, just as the one before is haunting, her voice almost keening. Yet she sang songs of love, such as "My Baby Just Cares For Me", with an almost care-free simplicity, and "Ne Me Quite Pas"; passionately yearning and obsessive.
Whilst in the Old Testament the sins of the father will pass on yea, unto the third and fourth generation, it didn't say squat about the talents of the mothers. Oops. So, even though I know only about seven people actually read this, (many thanks, ya sick puppies!), I'm happy to let you know that Nina Simone's daughter is releasing an album (yep, I'm old), of her singing her mothers' songs. And if you would like to check her out, her name is Simone.