1994 Was A Big Year For Women In Music For Me

Friday is fun, because it’s music. So playlists and links. Today, I share some favourite albums from 30 years ago by female artists.

They say we are most caught up in the music of our youth, we don’t move past it — apparently. I didn’t start writing about music until I was in my mid 20s (really) and so I was focussing in on a pretty horrible period, in terms of new releases. The nu metal that meant almost nothing to me, got caught in my reviewing driftnet. But I worked in music stores in the late 90s and through the early 00s too, so I was always trying to hear ‘new’ music, as well as old. The great thing about music, as far as I’m concerned, is that your new favourite artist can be someone that hasn’t made music in years; can be someone that died before you were born.

So, much as I never wanted to be defined by the music of “my era”, whatever that is, or was, I’ve also never been interested in just covering what is happening at the very time. My favourite music reviewing was often ‘retro’ things, the chance to look at an album again, rather than for the first time.

But, I can’t help but think back to the music of my final years in high school, and my earliest times at university. We’re there a lot these days, with albums I adored turning 30, or 40.

Today, I wanted to share a bunch of cool albums that were released 30 years ago from female artists. I reckon, thinking about it now, 1994 is the year that my music collection started to diversify. My mum played me Etta James and Billie Holiday and Tina Turner and Aretha Franklin and Anita O’Day when I was a kid. And I’m forever grateful for that. Madonna and Cyndi Lauper were everywhere, and for a time so was Alison Moyet — but they always seemed like guilty pleasures to me. Not now of course. But back then. As a kid. I mean I used to get grief from my primary school friends for being a fan of Prince. He was a bit weird you see. Not like that upstanding citizen and absolute legend of the 80s pop charts: Michael Jackson. Lol.

Anyway, I started buying CDs at the very end of 1993 — late bloomer. And so it was into 1994 (and especially ‘95) that I developed my own music collection, something very seperate from the rest of the music in the house. There were always great cues — my brother was up at university in Auckland, so he would come home with John Coltrane and Miles Davis CDs from the sales bins at Real Groovy and this stuff would blow my mind. My folks were rebuilding their record collection on CD and the music of the 60s and 70s was (and still is) pretty great to my ears. But in 1993 and especially 1994 I started to really define my own tastes.

In the mid 90s, the term “female singer/songwriter” started to get floated — I know I certainly never meant it with any harm, but it’s easy to see now how reductive it is. What mattered though was the music. That’s always what matters most. And in 1994, maybe especially, some of the women I’d first heard a year or two earlier were returning with sophisticated sophomore recordings, or were bursting out onto the scene, or were releasing career-to-date summaries, or were shifting from the music of the late 80s and its vibe to the new, post-grunge era. It was a time. And these were (some of) the albums I adored then and still dig now.

I tried to stick around for a lot more of Heather Nova’s career than was probably required. And all because for a brief moment, this album blew me away. I’m listening to it again now, while writing this — first time in a while, and it’s sounding almost as good as it ever did. I do like a couple of other Nova albums, but at one point I’d collected her entire catalogue and that seemed wholly unnecessary. But there are some gems here, and not just the radio-dominating singles.

A couple of years ago, when this Substack newsletter was still very much in its infancy, I celebrated the 30th Anniversary of Amos’ debut. An incredible album then, and now.

Happy 30th Little Earthquakes

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know Under The Pink in comparison, I liked it as soon as I heard it — but it took a little longer to sink in. Maybe the truly great albums do that, right? We don’t need to compare them for any sort of competition, but the standout tracks on Pink are absolutely phenomenal. Pretty Good Year, God, Past The Mission, Cornflake Girl, and Yes, Anastasia, and, well, I could of course name every song. The record just turned 30 (last month) and I have been listening to it a bit lately. I have it on vinyl and CD once again, and it’s maybe her actual masterwork, even? But then, I’ve been finding that all of the early Tori Amos albums are as brilliant in their way as anything by anyone.

Worth mentioning, that later in 1994, she would release More Pink: The B-Sides, my original copy of the album on CD was a double — and I was recently gifted a copy of that exact edition (hard to find now, I hear). But back then, 30 years ago, a B-sides collection was an absolute goldmine. Now people have favourite artists that only release a small handful of songs in total, rather than cups that runneth over, as has always been the case with Amos.

These are in no order, beyond how they arrive in my head, but it’s fitting to follow up an album that just turned 30 with one that’s about to. Next week marks the 30th birthday for this, the third album by Sam Phillips. She’d released a small handful of albums under her real name (Leslie) and then this was the proper breakthrough after her reinvention as Sam Phillips. I bought it because of the single, I Need Love. I still love that song. Proper cracked chanteuse stuff. This, maybe, is a very fine example of the “female singer/songwriter”, in that a man would not write this sort of song, would not be capable; could never sell it in the singing in quite this way either. I have followed Phillips since this album, checking in on most of what she’s done, and loving a lot of it. But this is my forever-favourite.

I was catching up on the Flying Nun music of the 80s and early 90s, and obviously living through the Nirvana era, so finding bands like Hole and Veruca Salt was part of that. I liked this album at the time, but probably preferred the follow-up, this was more just something to have — to show my burgeoning collection was hoping to mean business. But now I prefer the simplicity of this record I reckon. It’s a band — a four-piece. But I loved that it was two women in the front, in lead, in charge. (No chance of levelling a “token” female singer chant when there were two of them, and they did the writing and played all the hooks and lead lines). I also just wanted to love this band because of the name. Great reference to a great character from one of the best books and films of my childhood. So I was going to be on board regardless I think.

Everyone loves Liz Phair’s debut, Exile In Guyville, and why not? I do too. It’s fabulous. It’s packed with great, snarly pop songs with edge. It’s a statement too. But I also love Whip-Smart, which followed quick-smart. Two great records in two years. What could ever go wrong? The third album was solid too. Then the wheels crashed off and Phair wanted to go “girly-pop” or something. I still don’t know if it was meant to be “ironic” or edgy or was sincere and/or deluded. I know never forgave her. (I’m sure she’s super gutted about that!) But I also never stopped listening to the first three albums. All great. All of them.

It was probably my own hang up, but as a kid I felt a lot of pressure around being a Cyndi Lauper fan. It wasn’t cool to be an 8 or 10 year old boy in a place like Hawke’s Bay in the 1980s digging on “girl” music. That’s my memory of that time and place. And though I’m making it sound scarring, it was more jarring — just embarrassing. Anyway, this compilation arrived like proof that I was right. Cyndi was great. A songwriter and song-stylist all at once. Both a great performer and writer, a strong song interpreter and a girl that wanted more than just fun. She had something to say, and so many ways to say it. This compilation was the start of my public declaration of fandom. Owning this felt like a badge.

Similarly, this compilation felt like a justification too. I grew up with those key Sade albums, and liked them a lot. Then, suddenly, they were cheesy. Well, I always liked them. And felt the production was perfect, the playing was great, the singing exquisite. Sade is a band. But its lead singer is Sade too. Sade Adu. She’s still great. They’re still great. There’s still music coming out. Smooth Operator and the Diamond Life album is due to turn 40 this year. And this compilation snatching up the first decade’s highlights turns 30. I love all the Sade albums. The Lovers Rock record that arrived a few year after this might be the actual gold standard. But owning this compilation — as one of my very first CDs — felt like a proud statement at the time. And this still plays through perfectly eh. So good.

My introduction to this band. They’ve been an enduring presence in my listening ever since — this was just the new album out at the time, and a great catch-all as it was a live album, not that all of it was representative of where they’d been, much of it pointed forward. In fact, the following year I would buy Lisa Gerrard’s solo debut, The Mirror Pool, which reworked a couple of the songs on here. Yeah, the band is a duo — basically — and the other member is male, but I think of Dead Can Dance primarily for Lisa Gerrard’s contributions. And for the fact that my discovery of this music prompted me to follow Gerrard across her various recorded whims.

A modern/ish Christmas Classic! And I can’t lie, I’ve hated this album — but I was into it when it was released, and I’m (back) into it now. I liked the early Mariah albums then, and I like them a whole lot now. What a singer. No shame. And All I Want For Christmas Is You is an absolute banger. Just facts.

The first couple of Hole albums are fantastic — there’s even an EP I like very much that followed after this. Then the rot set in, and Courtney Love became a grotesque, a caricature of herself; to be fair she was always an actor over an artist. But the material collected here is brilliant. Great songs. Maybe in another month or so this will get some big 30th Birthday love.

And if we’re talking about albums that are caught up in the death of Kurt Cobain, then it’s a good time to mention this — which I would have mentioned anyway, since I love Sinead (R.I.P.) and I really love this album. Sitting in on here, halfway down or so, is a tender reading of Nirvana’s All Apologies, served up in that inimitable coo that O’Connor could bring. It’s a hushed and fragile and gorgeous. Elsewhere the album invents a new style of rap, is big and bold and dramatic, and also soft and quiet in places. It’s such a showcase for Sinead’s great gifts. And packed with excellent songs.

Alright, this one is a stretch. Three male band members, one female. Three songwriters and singers, and the female member therefore only got a song or two on lead across each of the albums. But much as I love Sonic Youth (I really love them!) I do think that Kim Gordon was not just their point of difference, but often the vocal star. And I’m including this one because it was the first album I bought by the band as a brand new release. I’d really got into them the year before, and swept up Goo and Dirty and Evol and that was all I could find. Then this came out — a new album! And after this I kept buying up everything I could get my hands on. Also, I love Bull In The Heather. Kim is releasing a solo album very soon, and I love the early singles. So fingers crossed. And R.I.P. Sonic Youth.

So, that’s a dozen. A good number to finish on. And the ones that instantly spring to mind from that year.

Oh look, absolutely, this album deserves a mention.

The voice on the album/of the album is Beth Gibbons. And thirty years on from this towering modern classic, she is set to finally release a debut solo record. There are just three studio albums by Portishead, and one live album. All of them great, and this one felt like the start of a whole new thing. But I didn’t hear and collect this in 1994. This was my first meaningful album of 1995.

The same can be said for Joni Mitchell’s Turbulent Indigo. Which I can’t share here from Spotify — but click that link for the YouTube clips of the full album.

It’s a 1994 release, but I only got to it in 95. And it’s one of the best examples of Mitchell’s work after that phenomenal run of 70s albums. Forget Joni in the 80s and go straight here if you’re new to her work.

Anyway, that’s the memories for today. See anything here you also love? Listening to anything on this list for the very first time, or planning to? And what were your great albums from that time? Were you listening to anything similar, or nothing of the sort?

Happy Friday, happy weekend. Thanks for reading. And for listening. And for engaging. Here’s your regular weekend playlist. It is volume 158!