In Accordance to Natural Law: February 2011

I saw Joan Jett preform live last summer, and up until now Joan Jett and the Blackhearts are my favourite band. Before seeing her play I had only known about her for about four months, but four months was all it took for me to realize that what an impact she made on me. After listening to her songs, watching her music videos and YouTube-ing her live performances and interviews I was captivated by her. Mesmerised by her rawness and.. how she was so hardcore. Standing there that night and singing along word by word to every single song she played with all my heart I felt so alive and just downright happy. Looking to my left I saw a girl my age sobbing hysterically, and, while I was not at the blubbering stage. I did identify with her. Turning to my right I saw an almost carbon copy of Joan, a woman in her late forties emulating Joan down to a T. She was inspired by the Joan circa 2000, she had shaved her head and even got the same tattoo on her chest. Now that was dedication. My own attempt seemed to pale in comparison, but this was summer in Southern California and even though it was night it was still pretty hot and I was not going to subject myself to a slow roast in a leather catsuit. Anyway, At some point during the last year of my GCSE’s I became sadder and angrier; I don't credit this to teenagerism, or angst or any hormonal whatever, just learning, and self discovery and all kinds of other pretentious things. This is when it became necessary for me to spend every waking second with my ipod firmly jammed in my ear listening to Everyday People or Fake Friends. I suppose I reached enlightenment when I heard her song Jezebel. I am writing a book and was going to name my main character Jezebel. (Purely based on the fact that I like the name, I didn't even know the biblical reference it had until after I googled it). So, I saw that she had a song called Jezebel and thought I must have it because it must be pure, good, honest fate. So I buy it, and listen to it, and get to the saxophone solo and feel my body reaching paralysis, I feel myself lifting of my bed and reaching somewhere beautiful. I don’t breathe or move and when the solo is over I find myself gasping for breathe. It was astonishing that such a seemingly irrelevant three minute song could capture me like chains and take me over like a drug. Long story short the few weeks after hearing Jezebel I listened to it a good fifteen times a day. The song became my own personal fix of cat nip. Have you ever seen a cat with cat nip? its like dangling a fully loaded needle in front of a junkie. Its like me listening to Jezebel. In the precious minutes I turn on my music and Joan’s gritty voice floods my whole body, I feel free and all these thoughts and feelings and truths that make my mind feel weighed down are momentarily shoved aside. I hear her voice and she says everything I try and want to say but can’t find the right words for, perfectly. And when she says them they make so much sense and everything seems so much clearer. and I say, jee thanks Joan, I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Now on to Joan herself. I count her as one of my many role models. Not that I plan to go down her route, but man I would like to have her strength and lack of self consciousness to be loud and raw and carless like she is. She straddles her guitar and spits the words out like they taste of shit and she IS loud and she is angry. Thank god someone is.

One of these day I want to take what I have learned from her and find her strength to really scream and shout and play that guitar, but even when we all try, in the shower or alone in our room it always ends up with this whisper, it sounds like a scream but with the volume turned down.

Sure she is in her fifties now and the Joan I am in love with is the Joan from thirty years ago but she is still strong and loud and cool and still doesn’t really give a fuck and still loves her black leather. I don’t really know music. But I know Joan and I know that she changed my life. Thanks Joanie.