Janiva Magness

Dirty Linen

This is an excerpt from the print edition of Dirty Linen #135 (April/May 2008).
The full article is in the magazine, available on newsstands, by subscription, and at the Dirty Linen webstore.

Janiva Magness

Moving the Blues

by Ed Silverman

For generations, musicians have been singing the blues. And many had good reason -- cheating spouses, debts that couldn't be paid, dreams that were crushed, or hard times that simply would never end. Such sentiments helped define the blues genre almost as much as its primordial sound. More recently, though, singing the blues has become something of a cliché, sometimes to the point of parody -- an agonizing declaration expressed simply to match the image of the music. Think of it as bitter moaning used as a career move. No doubt the blues can be a state of mind that can be hard to measure. But when Janiva Magness steps up to the microphone to belt out a mournful plea or lament her luck, those blues are authentic.

Consider her story: A Detroit native, she was just 13 when her mother committed suicide. Although she came from an ostensibly typical, middle-class family, both parents were alcoholics and, after the tragedy, Magness ran away with her boyfriend, who was a drug dealer, and lived on the streets in Berkeley, California. She returned not long afterward, but her father was unable to care for her, and she wound up in a string of foster homes and psychiatric-care facilities after numerous suicide attempts. By age 16, Magness called her dad to make peace -- she no longer blamed him for her mother's death. Two months later, he killed himself. Then she learned she was pregnant. Eventually, with guidance from a drug and alcohol counselor, Magness sobered up, became an emancipated minor, rented an apartment, got on welfare, and cleaned houses to make money. But she eventually gave her baby daughter up for adoption.

"My history is pretty dramatic. At least that part of it. And it totally informs my craft. How could it not?" said Magness, now 51, during a break in recording her latest album, which is being released on Alligator Records. "My parents' suicides were a pretty strong message to leave your kid. I think the mistake they made was to give up too soon. But it makes perfect sense to me that I'm drawn to this music. I really believe no one comes to this music without some reason. The music brought a purpose to my life. For me, blues and rhythm-and-blues will always be, and has always been, about getting through the hard times and the bad times, and the good times, too. And so it's about coming out the other side, without bailing."

Somehow, Magness did, indeed, come out the other side, although the impetus was there even during her struggles. Throughout her teenage years, she was drawn to the blues and R&B artists that passed through the Minneapolis/St. Paul region where she later lived. She saw big names, such as B.B. King, and not-so-big names. But she would attend clubs whenever she could, soaking up the emotion flowing off the stage as if the musicians and their songs were speaking to her directly. And the music left such an impression that Magness carried it with her everywhere for years to come.

"Sometimes, I think this music chose me. There were so many times that I felt something that I didn't feel, perhaps, at all in my life -- a real human connection -- from the lyrics and the sound. I just remember Otis Rush, and how he played every note and sang every word with such complete and total desperation. He was fully committed to the story he was singing, whether it was pain or joy or whatever. And through this music, I realized I wasn't alone, because up to that point, I thought I was. What I'm grateful for today is being able to understand that path the music showed me."

[cover #135]