Macho is out, empathy is in

The idea is to do to rock and roll what Virginia Woolf stipulated was necessary to literature: “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction”.And to lay down a challenge to the conventional wisdom that outdoor rock in America has to involve blood-drenched music played on Perspex guitars by leather-clad biceps while people lob beer bottles at each other.

Assembled by the prima donna of American she-rock, Sarah McLachlan the Joni Mitchell of the new times the Lilith roadshow features such disparate talents as seasoned folk-rebel Tracy Chapman and Jewel, the teen blonde bombshell from Alaska who made it from childhood living in a trailer to a quadruple-platinum debut album and the current cover of Time magazine.It is a seven-hour, three-stage, all-day show which has played to huge audiences, from music-wise California to the plains of Nebraska.

`The most rewarding thing,” says Mary Williams at the organisers’ stall, “is when the show plays some place where women have only been able to think of themselves as something that has their butt stared at, and suddenly they come to these gigs and find each other and themselves.”

The result, on stage and off, is a curious spectrum of American girlhood and womanhood combined to “bond with each other”, as McLachlan prescribes, and to make money for males like Ron Shapiro of Atlantic Records, who explains the formula: “Macho is out, empathy is in. People want to be given hope.”Along the back of the Merryweather arena are stalls distributing commendable literature on domestic violence, rape counselling and the plight of redwood forests.

“I really like this scene because I’m just not motivated,” squeaks Susan Hollis, aged 19. “Well you could come on our fundraising hike!” suggests the friendly woman behind the RAIN rape crisis stall.“I really don’t want to go hiking,” protested Susan. “You don’t have to hike all day,” the poor rape crisis counsellor modified her proposal.

By now the raunchy bite of Fiona Apple’s band had given way to the mellifluous tones of Jewel’s saccharin to the euphoric delight of the girls, and indeed the few men in the crowd who seem to regard Jewel as something which should be seen if not heard. She is followed by Sarah McLachlan, playing good old-fashioned country rock with lyrics that make Leonard Cohen seem cheerful.

“This is a great example of strong women doing something they love. And it’s gonna get bigger and bigger,” she promises.The Observer News Service