Advertisement

POP MUSIC SPECIAL : A Conversation With Linda Ronstadt

Share via

I t’s been 22 years since Linda Ronstadt introduced herself with the Stone Poneys’ sweet and simple hit “Different Drum,” and from those humble beginnings, she’s gone on to prove herself an exceptionally versatile performer. Trying her hand at everything from light opera and country to ‘40s torch singing and the traditional music of Mexico, Ronstadt, 42, has carved a permanent spot for herself on America’s musical landscape.

In town briefly from Northern California, where she maintains a home near her very good friend George Lucas, Ronstadt has a new record in the stores that signals a return to the classic pop style that netted her several platinum albums in the ‘70s. Titled “Cry Like a Rainstorm--Howl Like the Wind,” the LP includes four duets with Aaron Neville and several new songs by Jimmy Webb.

A demure and charmingly giddy, old-fashioned girl, she makes it clear from the git-go that her personal life is strictly off limits. Once she’d established the parameters of our conversation, the gabfest roars into the stratosphere.

Advertisement

THE EARLY DAYS I came here to pursue a career in music in 1964 and I knew one person--Kenny Edwards--when I got here. A friend of mine in Tucson, Bobby Kimmel, also knew Kenny, so the three of us formed the Stone Poneys and we played every beach dive there was. From the time I got here, I made a living as a singer, but, then, I was living on $25 a week. A dollar was a different story then. My rent was $80 a month, which we split three ways, and I lived right on the beach in Ocean Park. Pete Seeger’s grandfather lived across the street. Jim Morrison and the Doors lived around the corner, and we all went to the same lunch place.

I remember that as a very painful period of my life. It was exhilarating because I was discovering a lot, but I felt uprooted and I missed my family. I was trying to figure out who I was, and it was a hard time to do that.

The culture was very explosive then, very turbulent. There was a lot of camaraderie on the L.A. scene, but it was also very competitive and careless in the way people related to each other. A lot of shifting around went on, and if a friendship didn’t work out you just moved on to another one. And this idea of wanting to blow peoples’ minds was very pervasive, maybe because there was a lot of drug activity then. Pranksterism is what I call it--there was a lot of that. Regardless of the consequences, people just wanted to create some kind of effect.

Advertisement

POLITICS AND ART

I consider myself an informed person, but artists aren’t obliged to be informed. It’s the artist’s responsibility to deliver a good show, and musicians don’t have to address social issues in their work--not that it’s bad to do that, but I don’t think it’s required. The music I do is a reaction to my own life. It’s a comment or compensation, and an attempt to put it in some kind of logical order. That’s what I concern myself with in my work--and believe me, that’s really quite enough.

MONEY

When I left Tucson in 1964 I was wearing Levi’s, boots and a jacket. Today I’m wearing less expensive pants (cotton leggings), more expensive boots and a jacket. I’m not sure that getting money changed my life. I can fly now instead of drive and that’s an advantage, but it really hasn’t affected the way I live. My family was and still is central to my life, and we still sing together and go camping. Those are the things I like, so while money makes you more comfortable, it doesn’t have much bearing on the important things in life.

FAME

Fame can be a nuisance because it tends to make people dehumanize you and treat you like an object. It was very hard for me to adjust to being famous. It was weird having perfect strangers come up and do things I thought were rude without retaliating. People still approach me a lot, and it can be annoying if you’re trying to have a conversation with someone. And if you’re not gracious it can ruin your afternoon because you see that you’ve hurt someone’s feelings. So, it takes a lot of time and energy to deal with fame.

Advertisement

RADIORadio’s been taken over by a corporate mentality, and the personality jocks who spring from the community have been systematically eliminated because they’re harder to control. Radio is completely formatted now, and this change has had a profound impact on music. Radio used to be a democratic process where you put the music out there and the people judged it. No matter how much payola, coke or hookers were delivered, you still couldn’t get a hit if the people didn’t like your music. Now, with formatting, what the people do or don’t like doesn’t come into play because they don’t even get to hear anything that isn’t already an approved part of the format. It’s really destroyed radio and it’s now left to things like festivals to preserve any kind of democracy in music. They’re the keepers of the flame now.

Jimmy WEBB

George and Ira Gershwin and Irving Berlin wrote lyrics and melodies that haven’t been matched since, and Jimmy Webb is one of the few songwriters around today who equals them in terms of imagination and craft. He’s one of the only contemporary songwriters who can write songs right into the orchestra, and his songs have 17-layer emotions and sophisticated chord changes that are absolutely dazzling. Even when he was just a kid--he started out when he was about 20--there was a maturity and wisdom to his lyric writing that was always staggering to me.

Rap Music

I hear a lot of sublimated anger, free-floating confusion and a struggle to have power in a world where people feel powerless in that music. It gives voice to the feeling that comes out of shopping malls and suburbs where there’s no community center or common ground where people can meet. That common community center is getting harder and harder to find because of suburban development, and living in these communities without centers makes people feel like they’re not in control of their lives. This is especially true of those high-pressure urban environments where you’re at the mercy of whatever explodes on the street or out of the building you’re standing in front of. In rap, I hear people trying to feel in control of their lives--and I think they’re having a hard time feeling that way.

VIOLENCE

People think the world is becoming more violent but in fact it’s not. If you read history it just curls your hair what used to go on. Compared with the Middle Ages, modern life is easy because the government controls violence in this culture to a huge degree. In the old days if somebody stole your water or your wife you’d just kill them. Today, that process of revenge is at least slowed down by the bureaucracy and we’re no longer at the mercy of whatever greed or anger erupts out of the individual. I think we’re actually a lot nicer and more aware of each others’ weaknesses and feelings. But, of course, human nature is human nature, so there will always be plenty who aren’t aware.

STADIUM SHOWS

I’ve always hated big coliseums. They’re inhuman and you feel like you’re nowhere when you’re in those places. They also discourage a dialogue between the audience and performer, so as a singer they make it very difficult to do my job--even though they make it easier in another sense because they convert music into big business so you get to collect a lot of money. Sure, the money’s nice, but I was disappointed when my career evolved to the coliseum level because I didn’t like the way the buildings felt--and that’s part of why I wanted to do light opera. I wanted to play in a little music hall with scenery, lights and a proscenium stage with cupids on the ceiling.

RAMBLING

I’m in Tucson more than anywhere else, but basically I lead a fairly nomadic life. Sometimes I look at other people and think, gee, they have a record player and I wish I did--mine’s always either broken or in storage. I don’t have much stuff but I like living that way, and when I look at other people’s lives I often find them hopelessly cluttered with junk that’s gathering dust and weighing them down. I move a lot and I weed things out every time I move, but I’ve kept the things that matter. I’m real close to my family, so in that way I have a lot. I think if you wind up with any sense of community you’re very lucky.

Advertisement

WISDOM

The longer you live, the harder it gets to make sense out of life. Things seem to happen for no reason, and life has grown more baffling to me as I’ve gotten older. When we’re young we have a tendency to look at things fairly simplistically, and it’s much easier to be judgmental in your 20s than in your 30s or 40s. I often used to find myself saying, “This is wrong” or “That isn’t hip,” or whatever that silly Rolling Stone attitude we were coached into having was about, but now I feel it’s a waste of time to think like that. That kind of glib attitude doesn’t accommodate the endless complexities of life.

STAGE FRIGHT

I never feel confident of my abilities and I always get stage fright--it never leaves me. And it’s not pleasant, believe me. I find myself whimpering, “Please, don’t make me do this. Can’t I break my leg?” There have been times when I’ve prayed for a bus to hit me so I’d have an excuse not to perform. I think all performers have this problem to one degree or another, and you just have to deal with it. I’m not wonderful on stage and I’m not great at talking to the audience, and there have been times when I considered not performing anymore because it didn’t seem worth what I go through. But, in the end, the need to tell the story always takes precedence over the fear.

Advertisement