This column is for my ladies. They're not really MY ladies, or maybe they are. Did I mention they can sing?

Ok, let's get it over with and lay it out in the open. I tend to be tougher on female lead singers than their male counterparts. That mindset exists mostly in the harder rock world, but further description of that opinion and behavior is for an alternate style of column down the road. For the ladies behind the microphone, you typically have to take my breath away ... and if you do, you will control my soul more than virtually any male singer could accomplish. Over the course of 50+ years of musical immersion, there are only two females-ladies-girls-gals-dames-chicks-sirens-divas-madames-senoras-senoritas ... WOMEN ... who ride alone in my high-class vocal limousine FOR LADIES ONLY, and they are Harriet Wheeler and Patty Griffin. If you are unfamiliar with Harriet Wheeler, then you might be: 1) too young ... 2) too unversed with the 90s British pop scene or ... 3) just oblivious to the name of the lead singer of The Sundays, as a casual fan. If you are unfamiliar with Patty Griffin, or even just the name Patty Griffin, then we may have to check you for a pulse. You need to be saved. Allow me to help.

Here's where the story ends. No, I mean, "Here's Where the Story Ends". The song, by The Sundays. That's what I heard during the early summer of 1990, somewhere from somebody at first. Then I heard more, and then I owned my own cassette of "Reading, Writing & Arithmetic". Then I wore it out for months. You couldn't be SERIOUS with how remarkable that record was and still is, from opening to closing note. Gorgeous songs in their simplicity that were lifted to the clouds by the most heavenly voice. Upon first listen, as a male speaking for myself, it's one of those times I was so turned on by a voice that I desperately hoped she was as pretty as a princess, because that is what was drifting through my ears... and she was. The entire album melodically flows figuratively through every season of the year, and without Harriet Wheeler at the helm, there is zero chance it reaches those heights. ZERO! Little did I know that Harriet and company hadn't even hit their euphoric stride. Not by a longshot.

After the first album from The Sundays, the next release was surely going to be appointment procurement. That's when we arrive at "Blind". If "Reading, Writing & Arithmetic" figuratively flowed from season to season, then Harriet Wheeler hoisted "Blind" up to the point where you could feel every note, and your mind. floating through the clouds. The album took off like a glider and to this day has never landed. I can't use the word gorgeous again, so let's replace it with elegant. At this point, I knew that my demands upon not just The Sundays, but unquestionably Harriet Wheeler would be life-long. She is not allowed to do anything but write and sing songs. Primarily for my indulgence, of course.

Now it's time for The Sundays elevator to reach the penthouse, which would be "Static and Silence". If it's permissible to label a record as perfect, this one has a case to make to the judges. In my opinion, it is the most beautiful album ever created. If "Blind" helped us all float through the clouds, "Static and Silence" leaves the Earth's atmosphere and takes us on the most peaceful trip toward the next galaxy. Harriet's vocals completely envelop these seamless melodies in a flawless glow. ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS. I am convinced that the members of Slayer, Pantera and Cannibal Corpse would sit down, listen to "Static and Silence", and react with a ... "oh, now this is verrry niiiice". Ha! But for real though. Unfortunately, for internal personal reasons I will never accept, this writing and recording accomplishment would be the last from both The Sundays, and if you listened to her enough, you would now call her your dear friend, Harriet Wheeler. Secondly, and disgracefully, I never got to see this band perform live. It's painful internally harnessing that statement.

Now it's Patty time. Not party time. It's Patty Patty Patty time! A voice you would believe was constructed by artificial intelligence, but ehh ehh ehh, it's as pure as my dog's handsome bubbly lips. Introduce yourself to Patty Griffin, if you haven't done so, already. I imagine you might have, but let me talk about it, because I have this space to fill up. Here are a few quick and simple statements, which you can use as a valuable guide during our upcoming dive. Patty Griffin has a voice that was personally placed there by the gods. It just so happens she can also write one hell of a song, or two or three. Now that those necessities are off my chest, I can say that I was introduced to Patty's music in the fall of 1997. I showed up in Nashville to my new agent gig, and amongst the random short stacks of artist CDs spicing up the office, there was "Living with Ghosts". The first one. Yeah yeah, it was over a year old at that point, sorry! I had vaguely heard of her, only because at my last employment (as part of a concert promoter), she had been on the side stage of Lilith Fair. So, some osmosis through promotion and advertising surely occurred. This first offering is made up of only vocal and guitar. The main determination coming from "Living with Ghosts" was that this was a voice that wasn't only blessed, but it unconditionally had something to say within beautiful songwriting. I do remember that I wanted to see her acoustic show at The Bluebird (5 minutes from my apartment) in December of 1997, but I was away doing the biz thing. That got in the way of plans from time to time, but no complaints. Regardless, getting back to the music, I felt with the proper additional arrangement, there is no telling how far in in the chosen direction this writing and vocal can go. For sure, it went somewhere.

Somebody in the Patty Griffin career mix (Patty, mgmt, record label, all three) now decided to bring in the electric and amp up the attitude for extra flavor. Everything attractive and powerful coming from her direction will shine through. Bring in an army of experienced studio musicians, along with a few special guest additives, and then let's give this recognized indie rock musician and newly budding producer, Jay Joyce, a whirl behind the board. See what shakes out. What evolved from that experience would be the quite excellent "Flaming Red". Ms. Griffin showed off serious panache throughout this collection of ditties. The delicate remained delicate, but it was also cemented that Patty's vocals could definitely shoulder up with the rock production delivery. "Flaming Red", with highlights such as "Blue Sky", "Tony" and "Goodbye" displayed that Patty's voice was a beacon that showed off a great deal of melody and dynamics. It did garner enough of the necessary national attention.

Now let's get to the bottom of the creme de la creme of Patty Griffin. The place where the entirety of her talents were melded 100% and found the obligatory sweet spot. After the similarly stylistic next release, "Silver Bell", was shelved by the record company, Patty and the peeps decided to steer the boat in a different direction... what both myself and most others eventually agreed was the fitting direction. They took it back to the the roots. More acoustic based with whatever unlimited instrumentation was necessary. This was the embryonic moment of the voice becoming the legend, and the compositions well sought after. There were the albums "1000 Kisses", "Impossible Dream" and "Children Running Through", all recognized and respected by artists, songwriters and producers around the world. Patty Griffin's undeniably angelic voice was the most important instrument from start to finish. NOBODY to this day can carry a vocal melody that evokes more emotion than Patty Griffin. I implore you to give the following task an effort. In running order, fire up these four tracks in your queue: "Useless Desires", "When It Don't Come Easy", "Not Alone", and "Burgundy Shoes". See if that doesn't cause any kind of sea change in your mind and body. After that, follow up with the energy boost of "Tony" and "Blue Sky". They're all on formal full-length releases, so do the required due diligence. There was also much more of an extended Patty library to emerge, even after her long recovery from breast cancer in 2016.

Now, for the closure! To reiterate, it's true that I never saw The Sundays. That sticks in my craw, to this day. When I lived here, they toured there. When they finally landed in my city, I was on a plane or in a car headed somewhere else. You just keep saying to yourself, I will eventually work it out. Then they call it a day. Then I live with the sadness. My life will never be as good as it could have been, but I pull through. Patty Griffin on the other hand, I have seen on a stage a handful of times. Funny enough, my first experience was in July of 1998 at the Exit/In in Nashville, when one of our agency's bands, Burlap to Cashmere, was supporting her at the beginning of the "Flaming Red" tour cycle. I would say that was a memorable night. Putting this worship all together, so you can be reminded of my adulation for these two and how they have changed my life, here it is. They are the most emotionally impactful female singers during my lifetime on this globe. Of course, there is the songwriting and the recordings, but they are still the ladies of all ladies behind the microphone, and they are other worldly. Harriet may comfort, but she also haunts you and haunts you. It's borderline meditative. The only difference is that you really want to consciously absorb every measure. Patty can make you feel the gospel, even if the music isn't gospel... and she DOES GET GOSPEL, for sure. It almost feels like she brings down a higher power. Harriet Wheeler and The Sundays blissfully wrap you in blanket, with a whiskey in your hand and a handsome snoring dog on your lap. To provide you a proper warning, Patty Griffin can bring you to tears. Many years ago, soon after I met my future wife, she heard me comfortably mumble more than once ... "Harriet Wheeler, Patty Griffin, these are the two women that can sing me to sleep."