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Suzanne Vega And The (Un)common Folk

Suzanne Vega was a weird kid, by all accounts.

August 1, 1987
Mark Jenkins

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Suzanne Vega was a weird kid, by all accounts. While her pals from New York’s High School of Performing Arts (of Fame fame) were sneaking into trendy Manhattan clubs in the late ’70s to catch the latest from Talking Heads or Television, wee Suzanne sat at home in the dark listening to Leonard Cohen. “I guess I was kind of withdrawn,” admits Vega.

“I spent a lot of time by myself, at my dance classes, or just writing in my notebook,” she explains of her adolescence. “And discovering folk music was another way of finding a place that wasn’t violent or noisy or threatening as so much of New York living can be. I was attracted to folk music for its simplicity, its timeliness, and a means of putting things together.”

Suzanne Vega is celebrating the success of her second album, Solitude Standing, by reflecting on a childhood characterized by chronic insecurity and “a lot of babysitting.” It was precisely that kind of upbringing that eventually inspired the quirky, elliptical songs that have become her trademark.

The 27-year-old singer-songwriter waited for two years after the release of her 1985 critical hit/commercial flop debut, Suzanne Vega, before coming up with Solitude Standing a couple of months ago. Thankfully, Vega has stayed faithful to the art that serves her best— exquisitely crafted songs that avoid both the preciousness of modern folk and the mind-numbing tedium of most folk-rock. From the sly a cappella with of “Tom’s Diner” to “Luka,” a chilling tale of child abuse, Suzanne Vega manages to sidestep predictability.

However, not everyone is so willing to avoid the predictable. As Solitude Standing makes its steady but inexorable bid for the top of the album charts (Suzanne Vega, meanwhile, has gone platinum in Britain), the folk establishment is looking to Vega to re-open the floodgates for a full-scale folk revival a la the 1960s, a return to the glory days of peace, love and televised hootenanies.

But Vega is no mere folksinger, and it is unlikely that other artists will sneak into the charts on her coat-tails. Just consider her resume: born in California to a Puerto Rican novelist father and a German-Swedish mother; moved to New York and studied dance at the High School of Performing Arts, then English at New York’s prestigious Barnard College; involved with film and writing as well as music and dance; folk roots but also influenced by a diversity of artists including Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson, the Smiths and Astrud Gilberto.

“My music is much more confrontational than the folk music of ‘60s,” Vega says. “It has more to do with facing—not escaping—the urban experience, the harsh realities of life in tough New York neighborhoods.”

Just listen to the first line of “In Your Eye,” which Vega delivers with teethclenched Big City savvy: “If you were to kill me now right here/I would still look you in the eye/And I would burn myself into your memory/As long as you are still alive.” Yikesf Those are not the sort of lyrics that the Judy Collins set would appreciate, if indeed they ever listen to the words. Clearly, our urban songbird with the street sensibility was inspired by more than the birds and bees and all the flowers and trees.

“The turning point for me was a Lou Reed gig I attended in 1979; the first rock ’n’ roll concert I ever went to, in fact,” says Vega. “Up until then I had been Writing traditional songs along the lines of ‘Calypso’ and ‘Gypsy’ (both on Solitude Standingi). But after listening to Lou’s songs I discovered there were all kinds of things I could write about that I hadn’t written about before, and in different styles. For example, I discovered that I didn’t have to have a chorus—or, for that matter, a melody.”

Inspired by Lou Reed’s approach to songwriting, Vega wrote “Cracking” in 1980, a song that appeared five years later on her eponymously-titled debut album. An intense rap over minimalist acoustic guitar picking, “Cracking” is the kind of song that should have dispelled Vega’s folkie image. As she puts it, the song “wasn’t exactly ‘Wild Mountain Thyme.’ ”

Lou Reed’s 1979 performance may have opened doors for the young Vega, but what was inside was obviously bursting to get out. “As a dancer I was always preoccupied with trying to get myself into perfect physical shape,” explains Vega. “As a teenager I felt very frustrated because I didn’t have the control of my body that I wanted—I was out of control with my eating.

“So I think what I try to do with my music is what I couldn’t do with my dancing. And I think songs like ‘Small Blue Thing’ and ‘Cracking’ have that purity of line that I’m always striving for—and that I couldn’t achieve in other parts of my life.”

Speaking of purity—which Suzanne Vega does quite often—there are those who grumble about her use of a full-blown band on albums and recent tours. I mean, synthesizers for heaven’s sakes! The slick production by Lenny Kaye (rock journalist and ex-Patti Smith lead guitarist) on both Suzanne Vega and Solitude Standing add fuel to the fire. In folk clubs around the country, some long for the girl with the guitar in the spotlight. But Vega is quick to dismiss the coffee-house purists who reminisce about her “have guitar, will travel” days of yore.

“AH the songs still have my musical stamp,” insists Vega. “In many ways the band is my instrument as much as the acoustic guitar is my instrument. Only now the music is much more powerful, with a wider range of textures and feelings.

“In fact, playing with the band has broadened my music; I’ve learned new colors and shadings. By leading the band I’m being forced to learn so much more about music and it’s giving me the opportunity to extend my musical horizons.”

As Vega points out, nothing is written in stone, especially in the music business. “Right now I’m enjoying the chance to play with the band,” she says. “But if things don’t work out I’ll probably have to go back to playing solo.”

The way things are going, it doesn’t look like Suzanne Vega will have to give up the band, or for that matter, the music that means so much to her.

“And by the way,” Vega says before ending the interview to keep an appointment for a photo shoot, “I still think of myself as the girl with the guitar standing in the spotlight.” ®