Please talk about growing up in Buffalo, New York –the music scene there, and becoming an emancipated adult at 15.AugustoMAs a child, I befriendedMichael Meldrum, a local troubadour. He brought me around to his gigs and coffee houses. That was a cool, unique way to grow up, beside this alcoholic artist who hopped from girlfriend to girlfriend’s house. He he was smart and so well informed when it came to music.I was his shadow between the ages of nine and 13 or 14 or so. Beyond that, we parted ways. So when I was an emancipated minor at 15 and going into the adult world, it was with no protector by my side. I was out there in bars, on my own, running the open mic, playing gigs. I had an after-school job – I was trying to finish high school. I never managed to grow a thick skin; I’m still very open and porous. Somehow I survived all those years without cutting myself off.I remember seeing you regularly in London on a Monday night atthe Weavers Arms, probably in the early 90s. What brought you to London at that time?KjwillyBack in the day you could get a cheap plane ticket, where you were only supposed to stay for a week and you couldn’t bring any luggage. So I went to London, and – shhh, don’t tell anybody! – I stayed longer than a week. I started showing up to open mics and making friends. I remember a gig at the Mean Fiddler: a split bill between me and Tori Amos. The audience was loud and rude, and Tori was scolding them, and then I played. That was before either of us were either of us.In America, there was this stereotype of me that the media proliferated again and again: angry, hairy feminist. So that meant only certain people even felt invited to my shows, because the media told them exactly what my music was and who it was for. But when I got to England, there was nobody saying anything about me, so people could find their own way to my songs. The further I got from my stereotype, the more open and free my connection [to the audience] became.Doing things like rejecting the major-label system and having a social conscience – and, importantly, acting on it – inspires admiration. Is it me, or is that way of being, and of doing things, dying a death?eamonmccHaving thwarted the music industry and remained independent, I grew a lot. But when I look back, I see a lot of ways in which having a team of creative people around me would have really helped me make decisions. And helped me look good: there’s no hair products in my bathroom, you know.These records that I made all on my own are an acquired taste. I’m not an expert recordist, mixer, producer. I have regrets about not doing a lot of my songs justice along the way. It’s just a matter of what I can afford, operating on the level that I am. There are sacrifices to being outspoken and political. I’ve been pushed down and reduced because of my feminism, etc. But anything worthwhile involves sacrifice.View image in fullscreenOn stage in Chicago, US, in 1997.Photograph: Paul Natkin/WireImageWhat is the difference between a good song and a great song?InASenseInnocenceA great song is a song that was not meant to be great: it was just meant to be a song. So many people want to make a hit, but to me, that’s like pulling yourself out of the water of creation and into calculation. Even worrying about that is a distraction from making real art. I’m just doing what I’m compelled to do in the moment.Ata time when women’s rights are being eroded at a terrifying pace, what can we do to rise to the challenge and support the young women of today?SJB3288What we can do looks different for each of us. For me, it has looked like writing a lot of songs, and lending my time and energy to movements. For somebody else, it might be bringing a casserole to a neighbour. My whole life I’ve fantasised about the moment when women across colour, economic and cultural divides reach for each other and model the solution together. I believe it would be the most powerful thing the world has ever seen. Individualism is a mirage.Somebody asked me, “Do you still see yourself as a protest singer?” And I’m not sure if I ever did, because I don’t think that telling somebody they’re wrong about something is very effective. More and more, I see my role through my songs as saying to people to my right and to my left: you are here and you matter. Really, the goal of what might on the surface sound like a “protest song” is to uplift the people of the world who are trying to do good work; it’s to make them feel stronger and more alive.I hope that more artists on every level will be putting their butts on the line and getting political, because it couldn’t be more urgent. It’s a terrifying time for democracy, for women’s rights, for the environment, everything. We are in peril on so many levels, so I hope that even artists with a lot to lose will go there. Who would I team up with for an anthem about women’s rights? What’s Little Simz doing – let’s go!DiFranco playing live in her home studio in 2021.You havecompleted your 23rd albumand have been around a while. How do you maintain your creativity when Gertrude Stein, for example, declared that after 26 an artist is through?WoodsDThere’s something to that: for a lot of us, what we have to offer, we offer right away. The work that I did [between ages] 18 to 23, that is probably the work that affected my culture the most. But I’ve made a lot of songs since then. I accept the fact that I’m not the “it girl” any more and that’s fine. But I am still growing, and passionate about what I do. There is no diminishment of value to women as they age, unless you’re working for the approval of the patriarchy. Our energy is being drained and taken from us by these forces that tell us we’re not good enough. I find it so sad that people in Hollywood are all trying to play the game with plastic surgery and injections. People accepting who they are, even as they age, is a service to everyone.What is your most reliable source of creative inspiration? How do you preserve the playfulness and magic in music-making in an industry, and indeed a world, with lots of noise and criticism?April006One of my most reliable sources is other people’s art. My favourite thing is to go to a show that makes me want to go home and pick up my guitar and write a song. And my second favourite thing is to be that for somebody else.Has being part of the theatre scene, through Persephone [the role she played in the musicalHadestown on Broadway], influenced your artor creative lens?April006It was very humbling in so many ways. I don’t know how much more humbling I can take in this life, but to play to an audience that did not show up to see me with love in their heart, on a nightly basis, was eye-opening. I had to lock eyes and sing right to people, and 97% of the time they were giving me the death stare. It was brutal.View image in fullscreenDiFranco at the March for Women’s Lives held in Washington, DC in 2004.Photograph: David S Holloway/Getty ImagesWoody Guthriewrote “this machine kills fascists” on his guitar as a symbol of the power of words and music to fight against oppression. We have a new generation of fascists and a nationalism that is rising worldwide with renewed vigour.You once wrote about “coming of age during the plague of Reagan and Bush”; Trump feels like a whole other thing again. How do you think about the role of your music against this new backdrop?benwerdComing of age during the plague of Reagan and Bush, I thought that we could stoop no lower. I was naive – there’s always a lower. As a political songwriter, you would love for your tunes to become passé. I wrote a song in 1997 about the plague of gun violence in America. [There were] these songs that I wrote in the George W Bush era, thinking that there was no greater evil to fight … and now here we are under a Trump regime. It’s horrifying to have these 30-year-old songs be more relevant than ever. Being an activist all these years is exhausting. And that’s also a very deliberate strategy by these repressive forces: to exhaust us. For me, who’s been taking to the streets for 30-plus years, I have to battle this feeling of: does it even matter, if all of the honour is stripped from politics, and the political leaders are just power-hungry oligarchs who don’t care?As a young, straight guy in the late 90s with a big love of Fugaziand straight-edge punk, I still found my way in to your music and found both it and your story revelatory and inspiring.I wonder, did you ever have or feel any kinship with those hardcore and very male bands at the time or since?HMKGrey2Absolutely. I love Fugazi and they love me back. I grew up in an era where if you were a woman speaking about your experience, that was, according to many people and the media, only relevant to other women. Any man who was open and brave enough to relate to and hear a woman’s experience, they were renegade and rare beasts. I remember having conversations on dressing-room walls, where we wrote to each other – they played the club a week before me, or I did. In the 90s, before social media, if you wanted to send somebody a message, the wall was where you posted.I loved hearing how you began by playing gigs at bars, and the way your songs were sometimes influenced by trying to grab the audience’s attention.Could you speak a bit more on how you struck out to develop your unique guitar style?April006The dynamics of my music – I use a lot of loud and soft – all come, I think, from the survival skills I learned playing in bars alone, to shut people the hell up! I discovered that if you make a loud sound or hold a note, and then you leave a chasm of silence, people’s talking will suddenly hang in the air and they will notice themselves, and then they might even notice you. In that moment, there is a seed of possibility for capturing their attention.What would you say to your Gen Z fans? The young lesbians still love you!paige004I still love them back. We’re still here. Being an old guard now of feminism and the queer movement, us old lesbos or lesbo-adjacent people have things to offer. And I hope that the younger generation want to have us at the table. They are finding their own way, and they very much should, and I have a lot to learn from it. But there are some feminist principles that could help allof our social movements, a lot of wisdom there to be drawn from.“He said, are you an American citizen? I said‘Yes sir, so far’” – any more or less since you wrote those lyrics?brittunculusMy mother is Canadian, so as of a year or two ago, I did achieve Canadian citizenship, so I’m dual now. When it really is time for me to sit down and leave it to another generation, maybe you’ll find me in the woods of Quebec.Ani DiFranco’sEuropean tourbegins 11 June atRoyal Albert Hall, London
‘The goal of a protest song is to make people feel strong and alive’: Ani DiFranco on Broadway, Fugazi and 30 years of activism
TruthLens AI Suggested Headline:
"Ani DiFranco Reflects on Music, Activism, and Her Journey from Buffalo to Broadway"
TruthLens AI Summary
Ani DiFranco reflects on her formative years growing up in Buffalo, New York, where she was immersed in a vibrant music scene. At a young age, she befriended local troubadour Michael Meldrum, who introduced her to the world of gigs and coffee houses. This unique upbringing shaped her into an emancipated adult by the age of 15, allowing her to navigate the adult world independently. Despite the challenges of performing in bars and running open mics while finishing high school, DiFranco maintained her openness and creativity, which she credits for her survival in a demanding industry. Her journey included a pivotal trip to London, where she experienced a different reception from audiences who were not influenced by the stereotypes the media had imposed on her in America. This newfound freedom allowed her to connect authentically with her listeners and further develop her artistic voice.
Throughout her career, DiFranco has remained committed to her principles, often rejecting mainstream music industry norms in favor of independence and activism. She acknowledges that while her music may not always achieve commercial success, it serves a greater purpose in uplifting and empowering others. As she reflects on her role as a musician amidst current societal challenges, DiFranco emphasizes the importance of collaboration and collective action, particularly in the fight for women's rights and against rising nationalism. Her belief in the power of protest songs is rooted in their ability to inspire and energize those striving for change. DiFranco's ongoing commitment to her art and activism demonstrates her resilience and passion, as she continues to engage with both her audience and the pressing issues of her time.
TruthLens AI Analysis
Ani DiFranco’s interview offers a reflective glimpse into her early life, artistic journey, and the intersection of music with activism. The discussion spans her unconventional upbringing in Buffalo, her experiences as an emancipated minor, and her struggles with media stereotypes, particularly as a feminist artist. The narrative also touches on her time in London, where she found a more open reception to her music, free from the reductive labels imposed by the American press.
Context and Purpose of the Article
The piece appears to celebrate DiFranco’s 30-year career while emphasizing the enduring relevance of protest music and activism. By highlighting her personal resilience and the transformative power of art, the article likely aims to inspire readers, particularly those interested in grassroots movements or independent music. There’s no overt evidence of hidden agendas or deliberate misinformation; rather, it aligns with cultural storytelling that amplifies marginalized voices.
Audience and Reception
This interview will resonate most with progressive communities, feminists, and indie music enthusiasts. It speaks to those who value artistic authenticity and social justice, reinforcing DiFranco’s legacy as a figure who challenges mainstream narratives. The tone suggests an effort to connect with audiences disillusioned by commercialized media portrayals.
Media and Stereotypes
DiFranco’s critique of how the media framed her as an "angry, hairy feminist" underscores broader issues of representation. The article subtly critiques sensationalism while showcasing how artistic freedom flourishes outside restrictive labels. This aligns with contemporary debates about identity and media bias.
Potential Manipulation or Bias
The interview doesn’t exhibit overt manipulation. However, its focus on DiFranco’s activism and defiance of stereotypes could be seen as a curated narrative to reinforce her ideological stance. The lack of counterpoints (e.g., critical perspectives on her work) might reflect editorial selection, but this is typical for artist profiles.
AI Involvement and Style
The conversational tone and personal anecdotes suggest human authorship, though AI tools might have assisted with structuring or transcribing. No identifiable AI-driven agenda (e.g., geopolitical bias) is evident. The piece prioritizes DiFranco’s voice without apparent external influence.
Credibility Assessment
The article is credible as a first-person account, though its subjectivity is inherent to the interview format. The absence of factual contradictions or sensational claims supports its reliability. Readers should approach it as a perspective piece rather than investigative journalism.