Pop Music Jewels second is nearly perfect ... maybe too
perfect
By ROBIN TAYLOR
I am not in a good space now. I am
midway through my second year away from teaching, my second year of carving out
a life as a freelance writer, my second year as a part-time waitress.
A year ago, I had dreams of where I would be by now. I would have
a finished manuscript for every month of my writing life. I would have a rough
draft of my novel completed. I would rise every morning with the sun,
regardless of how late I worked the night before, and would begin the day with
prayer and meditation before going to the computer to write.
I would never do the laundry first, put last nights dishes
in the dishwasher, fill the bird feeders. No, I would be so committed and
efficient that nothing would keep me from the page, from this simple process of
stringing words together.
This is not my reality. Occasionally I come close. Generally,
though, I sleep later than I should, ignore my journal until midmorning, waste
time on the Internet and am still in my pajamas when my husband calls at
lunchtime to say hello. It is embarrassing when the postman comes with a
package or the Federal Express lady drops by. When I do write, its
usually for an hour or so, rarely more. I disappoint myself again and again.
Its in this spirit that I have been listening to Jewel
lately. Her second CD Spirit debuted at No. 3 on the Billboard
album charts last November, an impressive showing considering it was released
the same time that powerhouse Garth Brooks had a new album on the market.
Jewels album has already sold more than 3 million copies and months after
its release is still up near the top of the charts.
The album is nearly perfect. From the jacket design to the lyrics,
it is lovely. Jewel dedicates it to her mother, Nedra Carroll, who gently
inspired and nurtured her desire to be a human being in the highest
sense. It quotes Plotinus who said, We are not separate from
spirit; we are in it, and James Allen, who promises that if you cherish
your vision and ideals, your world will at last be built. It
features a golden seal that exhorts listeners to be the difference that
makes a difference and reminds them that you are the
difference. All this before the first notes are heard.
Hands, the first single that peaked at No. 2 on the
Billboard charts, celebrates our power to work for change. I wont
be made useless, Jewel sings. I wont be idle with
despair. Instead she vows to use her gifts, regardless of how
insignificant they seem. My hands are small I know/But theyre not
yours, they are my own/And I am never broken, she says.
Later she makes it clear theres a social consciousness at
play. She sings, Well fight, not out of spite/For someone must
stand up for whats right/Cause where theres a man who has no
voice/There ours shall go singing.
Other parts of the gospel according to Jewel? Were all OK
and we shouldnt worry, cause worry is wasteful/And useless
in times like these. Its kindness that matters most, and always
good to get down on your knees to pray. Along with this, we are
Gods eyes, mind, heart and hands on this earth.
Thats a lot of light theology for any pop song. The rest of
Spirit continues in a similar vein. The first song, Deep
Water, echoes St. Pauls words from I Corinthians. Its
nothing without love, Jewel sings. There are hints of Jesus here, too,
with his pesky example of loving the unlovable, the tax collectors and
demon-possessed. Lets run with the hunted, the untamed/embrace the
faceless, the unnamed, she sings in Kiss the Flame.
The song Barcelona turns to prayer, with the lyrics,
God, wont you please hold me, release me/Show me the meaning of
mercy and I wont be held back/I will lead with my
faith.
Spirit also features a protest song, one that easily
could have been sung by the flower children of the 1960s. There is a new
army coming and we are armed with faith/To live, we must give/And lend our
voices only to sounds of freedom, she sings in Life Uncommon.
The song has a practical edge as well: There are plenty of people who
pray for peace/But if praying were enough it would have come to be.
The answer? Fill your lives with love and bravery/And we
shall lead a life uncommon.
I confess that I am jealous of Jewel, of the uncommon life she
seems to lead. Its hard to imagine that just a few years ago the
24-year-old was living in the back of a van in San Diego, surviving mainly on
carrot sticks and peanut butter, writing songs, playing gigs, biding her time
until she made it big. I am jealous of the faith she must have had in herself,
and of her idyllic relationship with her mother, who is the only vocalist other
than Jewel featured on the album.
I wish I didnt like Spirits final song,
Absence of Fear, so much. Though not an outright prayer, it invokes
the passion of the mystic saints who longed to be ravaged by God. Inside
my skin there is this space/It twists and turns/It bleeds and aches/Inside my
heart theres an empty room/Its waiting for lightning/Its
waiting for you, she sings.
As I struggle every day with writing and not writing, I too ache
for that place inside the absence of fear. I wonder what life would
be like there. Maybe more like Jewels life, which seems to go so well
now.
Thats my problem with the album -- the fact that its
so close to perfect, that Jewel seems so perfect, annoys me. Though she sings
in Absence of Fear about restlessness, desire and need, Im
not convinced that she suffers from any of these problems. Maybe its
because the majority of her lyrics are so self-assured and confident, full of
answers and pronouncements.
I am never broken, she sings in Hands.
Good for her.
Thats not me, though. I am broken all the time. I am a
whirling mass of confusion and despair that occasionally bobs out of this
whirlpool of daily life for breaths of holy air. The music that touches me most
recognizes that. It doesnt continually urge me to make a
difference, something I already feel guilty about. Instead, it holds my
hand and makes the nights less lonely.
There was a Saturday Night Live sketch the other night
poking fun at Jewel and her poetry. I admit that I laughed longer than I should
have. It felt good to tear her down, to make her words seem trite. Im not
proud of this, though I understand why she made such a satisfying target.
Jewels music makes her larger than life, setting her up as someone to
follow, someone who will lead us into the best way of making a difference,
something she surely knows because she lived in a van once.
Even in the songs that hint at deeper issues, she trips along past
the pain. Fat Boy takes the viewpoint of a youngster struggling
with a weight problem. Fat Boy says Wouldnt it be nice/If I
could melt myself like ice/Or outrun my skin and just be pure wind
she sings. Oh fragile flame/Sometimes I feel the same. If Jewel
struggles with weight, you couldnt tell it from the pictures on the CD
jacket. Maybe she starved herself before the photo session.
The songs last line, though, with its confession and
self-doubt, is the stuff of real life that would have helped me connect with
her. But its just a glimpse, one that fades away with the next track.
Maybe Im too hard on her, too hard on myself. I would love
to do things differently, better, to gain the success that Jewel has, to make a
difference the way she suggests. I cant fault her for encouraging people
in that direction. It wouldnt be a bad thing for everyone to do more to
make things better.
Its a long road, though, and I have a sneaking suspicion
that all that is good in the world is less about us -- our spirits, hands,
faith, album covers -- then it is about Gods grace. The fact that God
works through us, that somehow, every once in awhile, things get better, and
ordinary people do extraordinary things -- that is a miracle.
Its something I pray for every day.
Robin Taylor writes from Dayton, Nev.
National Catholic Reporter, March 19,
1999
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