That old adage about God laughing at the plans of meager humans hit home in bittersweet fashion for Janis Ian. The legendary singer-songwriter was in the midst of an incredible victory lap: Her stunning studio album The Light at the End of the Line, released early in 2022, received critical accolades, nabbed a Grammy nomination for Best Folk Album, and ushered in a Lifetime Achievement Award from Folk Alliance International. She had begun a final tour when a spring bout of laryngitis led to a diagnosis of vocal fold scarring, a condition that would make live performances impossible and forced the cancellation of her remaining tour dates.
When Ian spoke to BGS last month, her speaking voice was clear and cheerful, even when recounting the tough break mentioned above. She had plenty of reasons for hope and happiness anyway, as she talked about the recording of and response to The Light at the End of the Line, a newly remastered CD version of her classic 1975 album Between the Lines, and other memories of her monumental career in music.
BGS: First of all, how are you feeling, with regard to your vocal cord injury?
Janis Ian: Itâs a little weird. I wouldnât have expected that Iâd be forced to stop. The plan was always that I would go on and sing until May 31, 2023, and then close out with a big concert in Dublin, have all my friends join me for a documentary theyâre making about me, and then do one-offs with my friends. To suddenly not be able to do any of that, Iâm still in shock, but Iâm getting through.
Well, if The Light at the End of the Line is your last album, you certainly went out on a high note. There is such ease about the record and a sense of grace.
I love to hear that. A sense of grace.
Did it feel that easy making it, or was there pressure knowing that it was the last album?
I didnât think about it being the last album until I started looking at the list of songs and realized that it had been 15 years since the last one. I kept a whiteboard of songs that I thought were really good, that lived up to the mark. One day I looked at it, and I added one song and I thought, âAll Iâm missing is the title song now.â From there, this one probably fell into place more easily than anything Iâve ever done.
I put off writing the title song as long as I could because I didnât want to write a farewell song. And I wanted to walk that thin line between saying thank you and being maudlin. The song was in scraps of paper all over the house. My wife kept going around the house picking them up worried that I would throw them out. The idea for the bridge was on the back of a paper plate. I wrote it down and she kept saying, âPlease donât eat off this now.â When I looked up, I had an album of first-take vocals. So that feels really good too. Given whatâs happened to my voice, itâs nice to know that at that point, the first take was the final take.
Iâve read in other interviews that you normally donât set out to write a song with a predetermined topic in mind.
Pretty rare.
But because you intended this to be your last record, were there certain topics that you wanted to hit?
I felt like it was important to step out. It was important to be brave. It was important to have a song like âResistâ on there. It was also important to be hopeful and have something like âBetter Times Will Come.â I really wanted to walk the thin line between those two, between everything has got to start changing and yet itâs hopeful.
You mentioned âResist,â and to me, the honesty and fearlessness of that song harken back to âSocietyâs Child.â I was looking up videos of you performing it back when it was released. In one, youâre introduced by Leonard Bernstein, who gushes over the brilliance of the song. In another, itâs on The Smothers Brothers Show and theyâre joined by Jimmy Durante in introducing it! Can you wrap your head around the longevity youâve had in the music world, from that song being released in 1966 to a Grammy nomination in 2022?
You know, I went to my throat doctor for a follow-up yesterday, and he said to me, â58 years is an incredible run. Most artists, itâs 15 years until their voice goes.â I thought about that and the line that I always heard from fans on tour was âGosh, you sound just like youâve always sounded.â
How much has the reaction to the album meant to you, not just from critics, the Folk Alliance, and the Grammys, but also from fans?
I have a pretty personal relationship with my fans. I learned after âSocietyâs Childâ not to be afraid of them. Up until COVID, I stayed after every show to sign and to meet people. I always emphasized you donât have to buy anything to say hello or to get a hug. And I really saw what songs like âAt Seventeenâ meant to them. Itâs very moving. So, to put out something like this and have the fans rooting for me, itâs pretty great. I remember on Facebook when I did the announcement about canceling the tour, it killed me. We were all set, and there I was saying thereâs not going to be a tour and there arenât going to be makeup dates. When I announced it, I expected blowback. I expected people to be annoyed. I was shocked. I had 10,000 positive responses.
A lot of those fans have followed you through the years, with your music accompanying them in different stages of their life. Was that the thought process behind including a song like âA Light at the End of the Line,â to address yet another stage?
The interesting thing about that song and âIâm Still Standingâ is that I thought those songs were for people 50 and over, people of my generation. The most feedback Iâve gotten has been from people 15 to 25 years old. The first time I sang âIâm Still Standingâ was for two other songwriters aged 19 and 20. And the woman started crying. I said, âYou canât possibly relate to this.â She said, âThis is the story of my life. You just told what Iâve been going through.â Thereâs a lot to be said, as a writer, for keeping in mind that you donât know what youâre talking about. (laughing)
Switching gears to the reissue of Between the Lines, that album possesses such variety in terms of musical styles. It is far from a typical âsinger-songwriterâ record in that respect. How important was it to be able to put out a remastered version that captures those original sounds?
I got control of the record everywhere but North America. I started talking to Sony and basically said, âYouâve been using the same thing that you had out in 1983. Please let me go in and remaster. Iâll pay for it. Give me permission.â That was part of why I brought in Brooks Arthur. (Arthur passed away this past October after working on the reissue.) He was the original producer/engineer. At the time he was running Adam Sandlerâs music business. Bringing in Brooks was like saying, âIâm not throwing it out. Iâm not getting rid of what was there.â But I wanted to know what would have happened if Brooks had worked with this kind of equipment. And thatâs what we did.
You canât take away that it was recorded in 914 Studios (in Blauvelt, New York) that was held together with spit and glue. The best kind of studios are. Theyâre the least fancy. But you could take advantage of things like being able to remember mixes. It was great to be able to remaster it and feel like finally the CD was commensurate with what the album had been.
Did you feel at that time you were pushing boundaries with a radio song like âAt Seventeen,â and did anyone ever try to rein that in for commercial reasons?
I think by then that I didnât really care what anybody else thought. (laughing) There was pressure on it. I threw my then-manager out of the session because she kept saying that I was destroying a potential hit. Brooks and I had absolute faith in the song and so did every musician who played it. There was some pressure from the record company to drop the second verse and make it a three-minute song. But instead, Brooks did that brilliant little Bucky Pizzarelli guitar lick and made it a single.
Do you remember writing that opening line âI learned the truth at seventeen,â and did you immediately feel like you had something special?
Absolutely. That was one of maybe three songs in my life where I thought, âI think Iâve written a radio-friendly song.â Thatâs not my forte. People like Diane Warren, they do that without even thinking. Itâs a real talent that I donât happen to have. But I knew from that first line that I was onto something special. It was really scary. I didnât want to blow it.
You plan to focus your artistic impulses on other endeavors besides music, but what happens if something pops into your head and heart and wants to be a song?
Fortunately for me, I notate. Thereâs still always music running in my head. That hasnât changed. I could probably limp through a demo and make myself understood enough to send it to another artist. Itâs just I canât hold my pitch for an extended period, which means I canât do two or three songs in a row. And my voice gets gravelly without warning. At that point, Iâm Tom Waits. OK, there are worse things to be.
Is there one aspect of your career of which youâre the proudest?
Thatâs a good question. I think recognition from other artists. Because really, thatâs the mark you try to hit. Leonard Cohen loved my work. And Leonard is the mark that youâre trying to hit if youâre me as a songwriter. Ella Fitzgerald thought I was a great singer. Thatâs a mark you try to hit. The people who I work with and whose records I grew up with, people like Joan Baez. Joan never goes anywhere these days but she came to my last show in Berkeley. She came backstage and said, âSo youâre really doing it?â And I said, âYep, this is the last tour.â That somebody like Joan cared enough to call me when she heard that I was having vocal problems, thatâs meaningful to me.
And thatâs not to denigrate the fans, because clearly theyâve meant a great deal to me and theyâve been really good to me and understanding. Itâs the fans that raised all that money, $1.3 million, for the Pearl Foundation (a charity Ian founded with her wife Patricia Snyder) because I couldnât raise all that on my own. But for me, the highlights are the fun Iâve had with other performers. Playing guitar, playing lead guitar with somebody like Tommy Emmanuel. Walking on stage with somebody like Chet Atkins and Michael Hedges. Those are amazing memories.
Thanks so much, Janis. I have to say Iâve never done an interview that encompassed both Leonard Bernstein and Adam Sandler.
Thatâs a good span! (laughing)
Photo Credit: Niall Fennessy