About time to pay homage to Ani DiFranco

I was at a writing conference this summer, and after a poetry reading the last
night I was hanging out with some of the other attendees as the evening got later
and later.

I gave my first reading that night, and while the five of us sat on the cement
steps, we started discussing the differences and similarities between song lyrics
and poetry.

Known thereafter as the experimental feminist poet masquerading as a fiction writer,
I was asked about who my favorite singer/songwriter is.

Without hesitation I replied, Ani DiFranco.

Duh was their reply.

But what does it mean to be a true fan? We all listen to music and we even like
some of it, but what does it mean to be completely devoted to the music and the
person who created that music?

I discovered Ani DiFranco while riding in a friend’s car my senior year of
high school. We were driving to a writing awards ceremony, and Ani’s first
album was in the tape player.

The following weekend, I went to three music stores before I found one that carried
her music, and that’s when it all began.

Ani rocks. Her guitar-playing abilities succeed almost anyone’s, and her
voice ranges from sweet and innocent like in her cover of “Wishin’ and
Hopein’” to her throat guttural, grrrl rock, like in “Dilate.”

Time passed, and then two summers ago I discovered the awesome power of eBay.
I began bidding on Ani DiFranco memorabilia and bootleg CDs (without realizing
they were just that — illegal copies), and waited for the mail carrier to
deliver my new prized possession into my eager hands.

I bought posters, press photos, saw her in concert TWICE (still more to come),
memorized her tattoos, followed her hair trends. I even bid on and purchased a
homemade compilation VHS tape with two hours of televised Ani interviews and performances.

All of this started happening when I was 19, and the best part was I knew that
Ani’s first album was released when she was the same age. Not until I started
buying and memorizing all of her CDs did I for the first time in my life find
it easy to relate to art like I had created it myself.

Just this summer I finally found a copy of “Women in (E)motion,” a CD
only released in Europe, for under $60. I waited two weeks for its delivery, and
was happy to see the seller was true to his word — the copy was not a bootleg,
but a genuine original complete with a cover written in both English and German.

So far, I estimate I’ve spent close to $700 on my Ani DiFranco “stuff,”
including the price of concert tickets. (Insert: a special thank you to both Adam
Graham for Ani’s latest CD and press kit at the time, “To the Teeth,”
and to Andy Moore for seeing to it that I got media passes to review her concert
in Ann Arbor. My endless gratitude is yours).

My five-disc CD player always has at least two Ani albums in it, if not more.
I even grumbled at my boyfriend once because he removed Ani’s album, “Not
a Pretty Girl,” and replaced it with Journey. Are you kidding me?

Every song of hers became a song of mine. When my ego was crushed by a have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too
guy, my theme song became “Puddle Dive.” When my ex-boyfriend thought
he could weasel his way back into my life on his motorcycle, my theme song became
“Gravel.” And when I got so tired of feeling pressured to conform to
the norm, my theme song became “Fuel.”

However, my favorite song is and will always be, “Two Little Girls.”
At the last Ani concert I attended, I bought a green T-shirt with a line from
that song, “Here comes little naked me,” written across the front, with
a naked Righteous Babe on the back.

Feminism has never been so empowering.

An overnight success 12 years in the making, Ani has redefined folk and grassroots
music, record label ownership and been a beacon in the music industry.

So, the next time someone asks you who your favorite singer/songwriter is, think
really hard before you answer the question. Are you really a fan of the person/band,
or are you so wrapped up in its overplayed song on the radio, that you ‘think’
you’re a fan?

If you want to be a fan, then you’ve got to follow the artist closely. Granted,
it does take time away from other artists, but paying homage to a great songwriter
requires a lot more energy than listening to the same CD in your car for a month
straight.

And if anyone wants to talk about Ani DiFranco, especially if you think you know
more than I do, then bring it on. It would be nice to be challenged for once.

Melissa Grunow can be reached for comments via e-mail at gruno1ml@cmich.edu
or telephone at 774-3493.