” I hate being categorized
as the Queen of Darkness,” Betty Elders laughs. “It was fun for a
while, but
let’s move on, shall we?” It would seem she has. The
last time we looked in on the Austin singer/songwriter, the dark role
came upon
her pretty naturally – she was still struggling with the fresh
experience of
several friends and family members dying (separate but successive
incidents),
and her last release, Peaceful Existence, was clearly a somber
attempt
to pick up the pieces in the aftermath. It was a powerful album, and a
painful
one as well.
Therefore, the whimsical “Just to Have You Hum Along,” which will
doubtless be
remembered more by its subtitle, “The Futon Song,” may come as a shock.
A life
that once was solid black now has some brightness, shades found on
Crayons, her new album on Flying Fish, and her first that hasn’t
been
self-released. Elders has come through the pain, the stress, and what
she says
were some nasty rumors about her personal life, and apparently is now
ready to
get on with life. If you expected to continue leaning on her musical
shoulder
to wallow in your own troubles, then perhaps you’d better move on,
too.
“Writers are affected by all we perceive, and eventually that
information gets
collated and becomes output,” she says. “When that happens, we get
songs.
Because life appears to be full of cycles and valleys and peaks, one’s
songwriting, when an artist is true to him or herself, reflects all
that
terrain. If this [album] seems a little brighter today, that’s not to
say the
next one might not be a little darker. I don’t know what’s in store.
But I’m
always glad for the songs I get, regardless of their nature. It’s just
a joy to
write.
“The whole purpose of Crayons was that I had become aware that
music
stimulated an internal visualization of color for me. I wanted to be
able to
create a color image, so that people can turn on their stereos or come
to gigs,
and have the songs create a moment in time; a momentary impression
where these
people are transported to a place of their own device. That picture
becomes the
canvas, my playground.”
Crayons is a forward-looking album, rather than reflective.
A desire to
move past paralyzing trauma – and indeed, Elders’ run of bad fortunes
almost
ended her career as a writer – and to start grappling with the
aftermath. “The
album speaks to problems and solutions,” Elders says. “If there’s a
theme to
Crayons, it’s diversity and acceptability, and within that there
are
going to be problems and solutions. Problems human beings encounter –
loneliness, relationships, communication problems – and what I perceive
as
solutions.”
“War Between the Fears” is emblematic of this theme, a very angry
yet
schizophrenic criticism of the political and social landscape – and one
that
relates strongly to the crossroads in which Austin now stands, although
Elders
didn’t describe it as such. The song was born, she says, “of a desire
to
understand what’s happening to the world, a desire to understand what’s
happening to my neighborhood, to my family, churches, to communities.
It’s me
struggling to understand, desiring to point the finger, and blame just
like the
next guy, and knowing I am just as responsible as everyone else for
making the
necessary changes to enable the world to stop deteriorating.
“I was profoundly affected by my first trip to Detroit. The inner
city looks
like a ringworm, like the original problem began right in the center,
and then
Detroit moved out from that, moved away from it. There’s nothing there.
There’s
a bombed-out shell where the city used to be. It’s just desolation, it
looks
like something out of Blade Runner. Everywhere I have lived,
there were
the seeds of that occurring. Some cities are taking real responsibility
for
their towns. Yet, my awareness of this began when I was a PTA mom. I
got to
thinking about all the parents that were at PTA meetings – who was home
with
their kids? While they were trying to solve the neighborhood’s
problems, the
school’s problems and the community’s problems, they were in effect
neglecting
their kids to take care of the masses. I thought there was an ironic
twist to
that, and it occurred to me that if I skipped a couple of PTA meetings
and
stayed home with my kids that I might make an investment that would
have an
effect on the future.”
Elders has also moved through some musical changes, as well, which
she takes
pains to point out. “Rarely do I ever get asked about melodies,” she
complains,
which necessarily prompts one to ask her about the radical reworking of
“Silver
Wheels,” one of her best-known songs, which is now titled “Silver
Wheels3” on Crayons to denote its third incarnation.
“The music had progressed to a point where it was so spare and
atmospheric” –
as opposed to the version on Elder’s first album, 1989’s Daddy’s
Coal,
which had a movement much like the train ride it describes – “and those
holes
said more than the actual notes did; the spaces between the lines
melodically
spoke so much that I really got into studying that spatial quality,
that
atmospheric quality. I kept the song because I think if I had been able
to
understand my craft musically at the time I wrote `Silver Wheels’ in
1979, I
would have put that atmosphere in there immediately. It never quite
gratified
me, never said what I wanted it to say. So when it finally got to a
place where
it did speak the way I wanted it to – high and lonesome – we decided to
put it
on the album.”
Ironically, this song’s contrast to the brighter spots of
Crayons and
contradiction with them draws attention to it. “It’s a song about
despair – of
change and loss. Since
so many years have passed since that song
was
conceived, I’ve learned how much
more there is once that change has
been
moved through. Yet, being faithful to the song, I couldn’t give it a
happy,
smiley-
face ending.” n
BETTY ELDERS
Crayons (Flying Fish)
After declaring Elders to be the greatest thing since
sliced
bread, and pleading with the “major” folk labels to pick her up, I’m
now put in
the uncomfortable position of being less than blown away by her debut
for such
a label. I hate to subscribe to that old theory of misery producing the
greatest art, but the shell-shocked daze of Peaceful Existence was much
more compelling than anything here (although I certainly wouldn’t wish
Betty’s
previous bad fortunes on her again). The album is mostly average, with
a few
bright spots. I do appreciate the silliness of “Just to Have You Hum
Along (The
Futon Song),” the anger behind “War Between the Fears,” and the
hopefulness of
the title track, but also keep waiting for something absolutely
riveting, like
Existence‘s “Crack in the Mirror” or “Ballad of Marley Rose
Peyton.” The
gospel of “This Place of My Forgiveness” comes close, but not quite. A
major
problem seems to be the album’s quietness – Elders said she doesn’t
want to be
overshadowed by her brilliant sidemen, but she underutilizes them here.
Based
on her previous work, I expect this is just a minor lull in what will
eventually be a high-profile career. For now, however,Crayons just
doesn’t speak with enough compelling force.
HH1/2 – Lee
Nichols
This article appears in July 14 • 1995 and July 14 • 1995 (Cover).