Fair game

"If you're good, you'll get noticed," Napolitano opines, voicing the diehard belief of many a signed act. "It doesn't matter whether you're male or female."

That said, A&R reps never met a trend they didn't like--remember the glut of grunge errata (Paw, Cell, Tad, and on and on) they peddled just a few years ago? Didn't think so. For them, as with Lilith itself, signing young women now has less to do with feminism and more to do with seizing a fleeting moment of God-given opportunity. The common bond between most of the Lilith Fair artists and the industry that supports them is a kind of late-'90s pragmatism--the desire to belong to a marketable group ethic rather than to pursue one's own dream. How quickly such an artist can be reduced to a caricature.

On one hand, it's nice to know that "feminist" is no longer synonymous with the word "dyke." But it's disturbing to think it's now just another marketing demographic, worth so much per thousand believers to all-powerful advertisers such as Starbucks, Biore, or Tower. Somehow, rather than making a meaningful change in people's attitudes toward women, McLachlan's success with Lilith Fair has instead turned the idea into a trend. And trends, alas, have a tendency of fading out.

Warner Bros. A&R rep Rob Cavallo is someone who should know about trends: He's the man who signed Green Day. Just before that, he signed The Muffs, a bi-gender band, to a three-record contract, which has just been terminated--thus putting to rest the blanket theory that it's "such a great time to be a woman in the record industry right now." Unless, of course, you fit into the Lilith mold.

Cavallo says now that he'd never have pushed the Muffs on a Lilith-type bill, but he adds, "ever since Lollapalooza and even before, managers have been trying to market bands and get exposure by tailgating on other bands' success. The big coup used to be opening for the Rolling Stones; now it's getting on Lilith Fair. And it makes sense, because if you're that type of singer, you're guaranteed to be in front of 15,000 people per night, 90 percent of whom are the type who might like your music."

"The Muffs really seemed like they were happening in 1992, 1993," he adds. "It was like they were cusping a wave of that power-trio-loud-angry-vocals thing. We thought we could break them, that they had hits. Why didn't it happen? I don't know. But I do believe that every band has a responsibility to itself to be as innovative and forward-thinking, to be making a niche for itself in its own time and totally carving it out. I have to hand it to Perry and Sarah for doing that, and maybe what we're saying here is that the Muffs should have gotten together with their friends and done something similar."

Well, that's a pretty tall order: not just to capture your generation's zeitgeist via a song or a story, but to trap and tame it in a businesslike manner--to make it work for you and then take it on the road. It's what McLachlan--like Perry Farrell and John Popper and, for that matter, the Grateful Dead before her--has done with Lilith Fair, and done unbelievably well. The tour is well under way now. No fights or disasters have occurred thus far; no hissy fits have erupted; there are no junkies on this bill; and (reportedly) no backstage feuds or competitions. A good time is pretty much bound to be had by its constituents, to whom the danger and mystery of live rock and roll is anathema.

The only problem is that to many rock fans--this fan included--danger and mystery constitute the deepest appeal of live rock and roll; it is only those moments when a show teeters on the brink of chaos and ruin that give rock music its power to change minds and move souls. I appreciate well-sung hits as much as the next person, but it was the sight of thousands of kids tearing up the seats at Riverfront stadium near Cleveland during a 1992 Ministry set that will stick in my mind as emblematic of an era; the sound of Fugazi shrieking "She did nothing to deserve it!" on their anti-rape anthem "Suggestion" that reminds me of my hallowed youth.

After all, these are the moments that, as the French novelist Colette once said, "we so lightly called physical," the moments that shake and roil our souls. One can't help but wonder what, at Lilith Fair, is supposed to take the place of that catharsis--for without catharsis comes boredom and, eventually, a coma. And then the body has to be jerked back to attention by some kind of adrenaline-creator, be it testosterone, or violence, or just reality in all its dirty glory. The music of Sarah McLachlan and Bonnie Raitt and Natalie Merchant and all the other lilies may do a lot of things for a lot of people, but somehow I don't think it's going to do that.

Lilith Fair takes place August 1 at Starplex Amphitheatre. Scheduled to appear on the main stage, beginning at 5:40 p.m., are Liz Phair, Erykah Badu, Bonnie Raitt, Natalie Merchant, and Sarah McLachlan. On the second stage, beginning at 4:20 p.m.: Ebba Forsberg, Diana King, and Lucinda Williams. On the Village Stage, beginning at 3:30 p.m.: franklySCARLET, Talking to Animals, and Drugstore.