Singer/songwriter releases new emotionally charged album
Cam Fuller
The StarPhoenix
(article
sent in to me by zee lovely carrie)
Bif Naked stops Friday at Prairieland Park Centre Hall
Her voice sounds like
it's been beaten up and thrown out of a window from
the show
last night, but the words behind it are as honest ever; Bif Naked
is speaking
about world events, her personal life and her new album.
Fittingly,
it's called Purge.
"I say
welcome to Belfast, welcome to Israel,'' Bif says about the recent
terrorist
attacks in the U.S.
"This
is the tip of those things. It's a global issue. Our planet is
(expletive),
and it's not just the environment, it's the environment of
violence
occurring between humans.''
North America has finally been jolted out of its complacency, Bif suggests.
"Unfortunately, it's a big (expletive) wake-up call.''
There's
probably a song in there, but for now we'll have to make do with the
ones
on Purge and Bif's previous albums like I Bificus. It's a pretty good
selection.
Purge, for instance, is an emotionally charged album which sees
Bif taking
on everyone from former boyfriends to her real-life stalkers.
"I have
three in Canada. I don't know how many I have in Europe. I have two
in the
U.S. she says quietly. In her position, "you become a nut magnet in a
way.''
But, she adds, "me being stalked is nothing compared to the lady who
works
in the muffin shop down the street being stalked by her ex-husband.''
Bif has
never had a problem opening herself up in her songwriting; one of
the best-known
tunes from her early career is a song addressed to the baby
she never
kept. It wouldn't be a Bif song if it didn't hit close to home.
"Certainly,
there's a degree of vulnerability that comes along with it.
You're
airing your dirty laundry in a way. But that's part of what drives
you.
It's therapeutic. It's your thing, it's your art,'' she says.
One of
the strongest songs on Purge is the first single, the incendiary I
Love
Myself Today, a morale-boosting self-affirmation tune that sees Bif
stretching
her vocals into Annie Lennox territory.
>From
album to album, Bif says, "my only hope, honestly, is that we're better
songwriters,
and I hope that I'm a better singer.''
She's
quick to credit guitarist-engineer Doug Fury and producer Peter
Karoll.
Peter, for instance, "knew my capabilities better than I did. I
compare
it to a horse and a trainer,'' she laughs.
"This record was a lot of labour, so it's a miracle baby.''
As on
all her albums, Bif spent hours on the liner notes, hand-writing all
the lyrics,
expressing some personal philosophies and giving advice. The
comments
range from the bizarre ("thank-you for acrylic paints that are more
viscous'')
to the profound ("be your own boss. Be the boss of your own
secret
feelings. Be yourself. Be thankful for your life and your full belly
and your
shelter. Be nice. Just be''). Her list of thank-yous alone could
take
up several pages. It includes fellow band members, spiritual leaders
(Pierre
Trudeau is listed in the same sentence as Buddha and Jesus) and even
NHL players,
including Eric Lindros.
"Oh, that bastard. He drank all the beer backstage in Toronto,'' she says.
Just your average heavily-tattooed, hockey-lovin