“To be true to myself, to be the person that was on the inside of me, and not play games. That’s what I’m trying to do mostly in the whole world, is not bullshit myself and not bullshit anybody else.” — Janis Joplin
Born in 1943, in the unyielding uniformity of small town Port Arthur, Texas, she left to birth an artform that conformed only to the most non-conforming aspects of her time — the 1960s era of rock and roll. In her 27 years of life, she fought tooth and nail to be completely true to her heart and soul. The lucky ones that heard her walked away forever changed. She lived hard, loved hard, and sang harder. Her unorthodox tone and ecstatic delivery were groundbreaking in their effect. Her voice, not unlike the wild screams of an animal or the chilling hiss of a cottonmouth snake, is what set her apart and won her a seat among the elite class of her contemporaries: Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, and The Beatles, to name a few. This is Janis Joplin, a rock and roll legend.
In 1935, George Gershwin composed Porgy and Bess, an opera that became the article of affection of many great musicians for years to come. Most notably, the work has been rearranged by hard hitters Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, and Ella Fitzgerald. Billie Holiday’s cover of the track “Summertime” (a year following the opera’s release) hit number 12 on the U.S. charts, earning it a place in the social lexicon. In 1968, Joplin sang “Summertime” as a member of Big Brother and the Holding Company on the band’s second studio album, Cheap Thrills. Backed by James Gurley (guitar), Sam Andrew (guitar, vocals), Pete Albin (bass) and Dave Getz (drums), Joplin made each song her own and created a true rock and roll record.
Joplin tactfully encapsulated the gentle subtleties of “Summertime,” but she added further dimension to it by mining the depths of herself, her experience, and the sheer possibility of creative force. She did so to “push a song instead of just sliding over it” as was exemplified by one of her many idols, Otis Redding.
The song echoes the soul of the well-known lullaby “Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry,” though it carries a greater meaning and weight. Its touching sentiments remind you to appreciate the good in front of you, what you already have, and the potential within. Furthermore, the berceuse origins of “Summertime” lend the intimacy of the love and belief one may find in the comfort of a mother’s heart, but that can also be found within oneself. It is in many ways an audiological cocoon reminiscent of things sweet, warm, and full of love and possibility. As much as this song is a carefully designed lullaby, Joplin pushed it to communicate a belief in herself that she held fast her whole life:
One of these mornings
You’re gonna rise, rise up singing
You’re gonna spread your wings
Child, and take, take to the sky
As she sings, she seems to speak as much to herself as she does to the audience. One might even argue it’s as though she is speaking to the ill-fitting little girl stuck in Port Arthur, Texas, unsure of herself within her stifling surroundings.
The instrumental hits and moments of refrain by Big Brother and The Holding Company create a trance so sweet and soft that the visceral change of Joplin’s vocals and the sudden escalation of the astounding guitar is not jarring or daunting but exciting, powerful, and perfectly complimentary.
Listening to Joplin’s “Summertime” is not unlike the experience of a child’s first exploration of a playground, or a fast ride on a roller coaster— pure bliss, sheer excitement, without ever having to truly leave comfort and safety. The experience contrasts with the world we find waiting for us when we grow older and further away from the joy of simple beauties: the thrill of tasting a sugar cube for the first time, or the smell of a summer flower on a bright morning. Joplin sang in tongues, but the feeling of everything she sang was clear as a bell. All you’ve got to do is listen and you’ll feel it too.
