These days music by lesbians and bisexual women, from Sia to the Gossip to Melissa Etheridge, is categorized more by its musical genre – pop, punk, etc. – than by the sexual orientation of its performers. But mainstream acceptance is relatively new; before Etheridge came out, before riot grrl, there was the genre known as “women’s music.”
“Meg Christian invented the term women’s music,” said women’s music pioneer Cris Williamson in an interview with AfterEllen.com. When asked if she knew what it meant then, she replied: “I had no idea. No one did.”
In the early years, women’s music was a handy term that made de-dyking the house easy. While books such as Lesbian/Woman had to be hidden in a box under one’s bed, one could proudly display a Meg Christian album and say to Mom, “It’s women’s music.”
Meg Christian performs in the early 1970s
While it’s true that straight women have been involved in women’s music from the start, it’s mostly been a lesbian thing. In 1963, a folk singer named Maxine Feldman got kicked off the Boston coffeehouse circuit for “bringing around the wrong crowd.” Billing herself as a big loud Jewish butch lesbian, she opened for comedy duo Harrison and Tyler as well as doing her own gigs. She recorded her first song in 1972 on a little 45 that she sold at gigs.
Meanwhile, women in mainstream rock – Joplin, Slick, you know the names – were kicking booty and taking names. At the same time, all-female rock band Fanny (with June Millington on guitar) released six albums, starting in 1970. David Bowie called them “one of the finest f—ing rock bands of their time.”
Also popular during that era was the Deadly Nightshade, a trio known for songs such as “Dance, Mr. Big, Dance.” The all women’s jazz/rock ensemble Isis was fronted by out lesbian singer Carol McDonald and featured a horn section. (They auditioned for Herb Alpert of A&M Records who said, “They’re great but I think women look stupid playing horns.”)
The New Haven Women’s Liberation Rock Band and the Chicago Women’s Liberation Rock Band cranked up their amps, too. They released an album together in 1972 featuring one of their most popular pieces, “Papa Don’t Lay That S— on Me.”
It wasn’t all decibel-blasting rock. In 1973, folk singer Alix Dobkin released Lavender Jane Loves Women, the first full-length album to feature only women, from the musicians to the engineer.
Around this time, folk singer Meg Christian was performing in the Washington, D.C., area. She collected music by women and started incorporating it into her act, sometimes changing the pronouns to include lesbians. She quickly developed a large following of dykes.
One of Christian’s favorite albums that she found in a dusty bargain bin was by Cris Williamson. Her song “Joanna” made its way into Christian’s performances. When Williamson came to D.C. on tour, 400 lesbians showed up to hear her. She was so startled that she forgot the words to “Joanna.” Christian’s voice soared out from the crowd to help her.
Christian was part of a radical women’s collective hell bent on setting the world on fire, but they were unsure how to do it. The day after that fateful Williamson gig, Christian and fellow collective member Ginny Berson interviewed Williamson on the radio. She casually suggested that they start a record company.
Berson and Christian brought the idea to the group, and the others agreed even though they had no experience and no money. Starting in 1973, Olivia Records (now the lifestyle and travel company) went on to release 40 albums, including Williamson’s groundbreaking Changer and the Changed, an album that still sells today.
Williamson wasn’t sure where she was headed at the time. “I had no intention to speak to women or to men, just to the human condition,” she said. “What happened was, I’d look out the door and there was this line of women pointing at me. If she needs to be said, I’ll say it. If lesbian needs to be said, I’ll say that too. I was thrown into a pigeonhole, but it’s honest to God been good to me.”
Cris Williamson
Photo credit: Irene Young
June Millington, who was born in the Philippines and co-founded Fanny with her sister, Jean, was also important in women’s music, though she blows off her role in the movement. “I don’t know why you’re talking to me,” Millington laughingly said, “since I rode in on Cris’ coattails.”
She continued: “I was living with [bass player] Jackie Robbins when Cris sent a tape. I heard this music and thought, I like this voice, there’s a nice energy to it, then at the end there was this incredible eruption of clapping, this joy, and I asked, who’s this?”
Six months later, they were in Los Angeles recording Williamson’s first Olivia album. Jamming at gigs turned into a tour.
June Millington
Millington was unprepared for the wave of energy that greeted them at every concert. When I asked what it was like for a rocker on tour with a folky musician, she chuckled and replied: “How many times did people tell me to turn it down when I was at two [on her amp]? They wanted to be soothed, and folk music was a way to do that.”
At first, recordings could only be purchased at concerts. Volunteers who sat at the LP tables formed companies and, like the labels, made it up as they went along. In true feminist fashion, they decided to band together, and the Women’s Independent Label Distributors network was born. It helped that new women’s and gay bookstores were cropping up like umbrellas in the rain, coinciding with the feminist and gay rights movements. They also put recordings in brick-and-mortar stores, often in a bin marked “women’s music.”
At first up to 60 companies were involved in producing and distributing the music – just about anyone volunteering to sell records was considered a company – but as women realized the commitment it would take to stay in business, they dropped out. Over the years some companies were bought by others, leaving only one women’s music distributor today, Goldenrod Music. They also sell directly to fans, as does Ladyslipper Music, now an online catalog.
One of the main ways for women to gather together and listen to women’s music was through music festivals. They weren’t just about the music but were also about culture, and often featured workshops, craft areas, theater, comedy and dance.
In 1974, a group of Midwestern women, angry that a local festival featured mostly men, started the National Women’s Music Festival. Held at a college in Illinois, the event was supposed to feature Roberta Flack and Yoko Ono, but the woman hired to produce it skipped town, taking her salary with her. Undaunted, organizers forged ahead and held the festival with women folk singers, string bands and rock bands. The festival is still around today, and this year it takes place in June in Madison, Wis.
The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival began in 1975 and has flourished ever since. Many other festivals have come and gone, from one held in a Las Vegas hotel to outdoor events like Rhythmfest to current gatherings such as Estrojam. While the U.S. has hosted the majority of festivals, there have been others like the Venus Rising Festival in Australia and the Women’s Voices Festival in Canada.
So what exactly is women’s music? Singer-songwriter and activist Ember Swift said that when she first encountered the phrase, it meant lesbian music. From a North American viewpoint, that may still be the case, but a worldwide view presents a broader perspective.
Swift has made several visits to China, where the women she’s spoken with love the freedom to make art and be who they really are. They wouldn’t know Cris Williamson from Amy Winehouse. Swift admitted she struggled with the notion of women’s music because “while it celebrates women who make music, it separates them from the general population.”
She said she realizes the importance of the women’s music movement, though, especially since a lack of respect for women musicians still exists. Sighing, she told me that at a gig just the night before, someone had commented, “You’re good for a girl band.”
Ember Swift
Photo credit: Desdemona Burgin
Over the years, women’s music has sometimes been perceived, derisively, as a genre of patchouli-drenched folk. “It did start as a folk music thing,” commented Millington. “Coming from the lineage of Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan is something to be ashamed of? We should be proud of our history.”
Williamson added: “I know what rockers do at 4 a.m. After you unplug all that s— all they’ve got is an acoustic guitar and a broken heart.”
How does R&B singer-songwriter Nedra Johnson feel? “I know that women’s music is much more diverse than is commonly accepted,” she said, “but I understand why that is the perception. Having a band is not an easy task no matter what kind of music one wants to play. One person can travel and stay on a couch … performing at house concerts and small cafes and actually make a living of sorts. It’s hard to find four to five people willing to live like that for very long.”
Johnson continued: “I’m glad that people outside of women’s music audiences like [my music], but it is women’s music. If you like my music, you like women’s music. Unfortunately, I have at times had the experience of having my music used to bash ‘women’s music.’ There are those who have extremely low opinions of … women’s music who instead of saying, ‘I listened to your CD and it turns out I do like women’s music,’ they say insulting things about other women as if that is somehow a compliment to me.”
Millington didn’t have a definition for women’s music at first. “I was busy surviving,” she explained bluntly. Coming of age in the ’60s and ’70s in the rock world, with its blatant sexism and racism, it was a tough battle.
She laughed when she recalled that she’d heard Williamson’s songs “100 or 150 times and honestly, I still didn’t know what she was singing about. It took me a year to really get it.” It was then that she decided that women’s music equaled lesbian music, and that it built confidence and offered empowerment.
But where is this women’s music party headed now? Are we gleefully ripping up the tracks to make way for the mainstream music industry? Sure, every music genre has embraced women, to varying degrees, but the music industry remains headed by men. As it says on the home page of the Institute for Musical Arts, an organization founded by June Millington and Ann Hackler:
What if all-female bands were as common as all-male bands? … What if it was ordinary to see a woman running the sound at a concert, or if female producers and engineers weren’t anomalies? What if there were more women at the top of record companies?
We’ve had a small taste of that with women’s music. Johnson said: “I think women’s music has been the mother of DIY. … It’s inspired many young women to play and write music. It’s inspired women to go into production-related industries. It’s given many women voices. … The festival experience has inspired women and healed them in ways that no one could have anticipated.”
Millington added: “Women’s music will always be there. How can it not? Women will always be here. Music will always be here. Women of the future will be doing the women’s music of their time, doing something completely their own.”
She’s helping that along with IMA, providing training for girls who want to perform and learn about the music industry. She paused and said, “I didn’t have that when I was getting started.”
“We’ll never go back now,” Williamson said. “Are you kidding? All these young women? Giddyup!”
Later on she said: “I’m happy. They’ll have to beg me to stop.” She parodied herself in a creaky, aged voice: “I’d love to sing ‘Waterfall’ for you but I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”
