Published on Feb 6, 1997
When I was in college, a friend of mine (who I haven’t spoken
with now in almost three years) told me about an artist she was
really into, and that she wanted to go out and pick up her latest
album at the time. Down in the campus radio station that night, I
discovered the album had just been added to the play list, so I
slapped it onto the turntable.
Brave And Crazy, the second release from Melissa Etheridge,
was that album – and to this day, I prefer her acoustic-based music
than her recent turn to rock. Seven years have passed since this
one was released, and it still has some of Etheridge’s best
moments. (I was fortunate enough to meet Melissa while she was
touring to promote this album – she’s a truly nice person.
Somewhere in the picture section of the Pierce Memorial Archives, I
have a picture of myself with her – but I think we’ll leave that
stashed away.)
The opening track, “No Souvenirs,” is one of the best songs on
the album, despite having one of the corniest lines in rock and
roll: “Shame, shame, but I love your name / And the way you make
the buffalo roam.” (Thank you, Hunter S. Thompson.) Once you get
past that small flaw, the song is powerful despite being centered
around an acoustic 12-string guitar. Near the end of the song,
Etheridge’s frantic strumming on the guitar more than once almost
brought a tear to my eye. (Am I the only one who wishes Melissa
would junk the electric and return to her roots?)
The album tackles many different styles of music, from the funk
of the title track to bluesy jams (“Royal Station 4/16,” featuring
a harmonica player with a singlular name – check out the credits
for more info) to all-out rockers like “Skin Deep” and “My Back
Door.” Surprisingly, it is the rocking songs that fall short of the
mark, sounding very out of place on the album and for
Etheridge.
By far the prettiest moments on the album are on “You Can Sleep
While I Drive,” a song with little accompaniment except Etheridge’s
guitar and vocals and fine bass work from Kevin McCormick, and “The
Angels,” the third single. (The video for this track, which I only
saw once on a bootleg video, made me cry. Makes you wonder why
there has never been a video compilation of Etheridge’s released by
Island Home Video. You guys listening, or are you gonna fuck up
marketing that like you have most of Melissa’s work? But I
digress.)
By far, the partnership of Etheridge and McCormick was
incredible. His bass work was the perfect springboard for Etheridge
and they music they played; the live shows from that time proved
how powerful the partnership was. Losing his talent from her band
was a blow I don’t think she ever recovred from musically.
But there are a few weak moments on
Brave And Crazy. The second single, “Let Me Go,” was a
definite mismatch for Etheridge. The beat was similar to a hit off
her debut album, “Chrome Plated Heart,” but this track just never
clicked. The lengthy live versions didn’t help the track much
either. (One of these can be found on a promo-only live disc.)
Fortunately, there aren’t that many mistakes on this album.
Sometimes, when I listen to
Brave And Crazy, I think about the now ex-friend who
originally turned me on to Etheridge. And while the friendship is
now gone, the magic of this album has stayed with me. Allow
yourself to feel it as well, and check this album out.