Perhaps one of the best musical success stories to come out of our stinky little city is that of Ani DiFranco. It’s a charming ‘girl with a guitar makes it big on her own’ tale. Few artists have ever been able to claim such an expansive and devoted following as she. To describe Ani and her music, using invective terms, like "pounding rhythms" or "biting lyrics" or "slashing melodies," would be redundant; it’s all been said before and it isn’t always a great description. What’s behind Ani and contained in her music is a unique ability to see the world for what it is. That gift is what’s shaped her life as well as her career, and makes her so fascinating.
Born right here in Buffalo on September 23, 1970, Ani grew up alongside folk musicians, who would often stay with her family while touring. She realized her musical ability early on and, with the encouragement of folk promoter and friend Michael Meldrum, began playing guitar. By age nine, while most of her classmates were being tucked into bed, Ani was plucking out Beatles tunes in smoky bars. As she grew, Ani toyed with modern dance and visual art, but found her true calling in music.
Like many of us, Ani quickly realized that high school was a waste of time and her home life was stifling her independence. Unlike many of us, she actually did something about it. At fifteen, she declared herself an emancipated minor and moved out of her mother’s apartment and into one of her own. Around this time, she began writing and playing some of her own music, honing her skills not just as a musician, but also as a songwriter. She graduated from the Buffalo Academy for the Visual and Performing Arts a year early, and by sixteen was essentially independent.
By eighteen, Ani had pumped the Buffalo folk scene dry of opportunity, and having played "every bar in Buffalo a gazillion times," decided to move to New York City. Working your typical ‘Look-pal-I’m-only-doing-it-for-the-money’ jobs by day, Ani was able to support her muse and continued to play in clubs and bars. In 1990 she recorded her first tape, a demo she used primarily to book gigs.
By good, old-fashioned word of mouth and dubbing of tapes, Ani started getting requests to play local venues and soon, not-so-local venues. Inevitably, she attracted the attention of indie folk labels. However, Ani was appalled at the thought of signing over her control. "I thought, if these are the good guys, well, fuck it." Instead, she decided to keep doing things her way, starting her own label, Righteous Babe Records.
The rest of the story is easy to guess: record label grows from small car-trunk enterprise to millions-sold status, touring expands from interstate to international, radio play ensues, grammy nominations surface, fans include less angry lesbians and more flaky pop lovers. So it goes.
Well, what’s so damn appealing? It’s not that Ani is some cutting-edge leftist overcoming taboos and social barriers. To say that she’s the first person to stand up for pro-choice, queer-positive, feminist nonconformity would surely bastardize the efforts of the numerous activists who came before her. No, if Ani was doing it for the shock value, she’d be off singing about incestuous bovine necrophilia or who knows what else. Conversely, if nose rings weren’t cool, if the indie rock thing wasn’t vogue, if feminism was unheard of, Ani would do what she does anyways. Her popularity is due in part to the fact that her message just happens to coincide with the views of mainstream liberals. But that’s beside the point. Popular or not, this chick makes good music. What makes it so compelling is the raw emotion she pours into each song. Everything she writes about is very near to her; reading the liner notes of one of her CD’s often feels like sneaking into her diary. It’s in that intimacy, that ability to invite the listener into her brain for an hour or two, where the magic lies.
From a strictly musical standpoint, her talent is undeniable. She experiments with unconventional tunings and rhythms, bringing a different sort of electricity to her guitar. She uses tenor and baritone acoustic guitars as well as her trusty Alvarez WY-1's. On various albums throughout her career, she’s used everything from drums to horns to piano to funky beats to nothing at all. It’s difficult to accuse Ani of sounding formulaic; she’s quick to dabble in genres of every variety. There’s something for everyone on each album. Another asset is her voice. Unmistakable and beautiful, she screams as well as she croons, still managing to deliver the impression that she’s smirking all the while.
Despite the glowing accolade she’s received, Ani has also taken flak from her hard core fans in recent years. Lesbian fans who once found identity in her open bisexuality and genderless love songs felt betrayed when she married Scot Fisher, her manager. Accusations of "shoddy, businesslike treatment" of her band members, increase in venue sizes and ticket prices, and a deal with 20th Century Fox to use her song, "Worthy," in She’s the One, amounted to "selling out" in the eyes of some. Is she still Ani DiFranco, sitting on a stool during open mic, and pouring out her soul to apathetic bar patrons? Is she Ani DiFranco, the ball-busting businesswoman extraordinaire? Or is she simply giving in to success in the mainstream?
Unfortunately, we tend to idolize entertainers. The stage becomes a pedestal, and all too easily, one develops an idealistic view of their favorite artist. Ani has never really felt comfortable with the "you’re my hero" mentality of her fans, so maybe it’s better off this way. It was never up to Ani to fight the battle on her own. Her contribution was, and is, to fuel and inspire. Whether or not she’s losing her edge is debatable, but also irrelevant. One thing she has always preached is that if you don’t like something, go out and change it. Don’t just bitch about all the other people doing nothing.
So Ani is still touring like mad because it’s what she loves to do. She’s still cranking out records of surprisingly high quality for their frequency. She’s still based out of Buffalo because she wants to give something back to the community. You’ve got to give her kudos for that. If you want to check her out, you could go pick up her new EP, Swing Set, but my recommendation would be to save your cigarette money for a week and buy Living In Clip. It’s a double-CD set of live stuff, and it honestly blows away everything recorded in the studio. It’s not that Ani can’t do the studio thing, but on stage is where she truly shines.
And that, my friends, is one healthy dose of Ani-ness. Ani DiFranco isn’t angry. She’s not fierce or caustic or spiteful. Ani is just the product of what happens when you give that voice in the back of your head a name and a guitar.
