PASADENA STAR-NEWS (untruncated version)
July,
2004
Late
Bloomer
Lisa
Finnie Finds Her Voice Once Again
By Paul Andersen
When Lisa Finnie
was growing up, she admits that she did the whole East Pasadena suburban
thing. "You know," she says, "AYSO, softball, the whole Hastings Ranch scene. My first job was at KFC in Sierra Madre, which
is still there; later, I worked at both Music Plus and Moby Disc, which aren't there anymore. And I went to PCC, too."
She sighs.
"I can remember Old Town when there wasn't
a Gap there, when the trains used to rumble through the back alley. It was very literary then, but those days are long gone.
I miss driving to the middle of Suicide Bridge
and faking a breakdown, just so we could sit there and stare at the stars, drinking champagne, or do scavenger hunts in the
Arroyo. I miss the dark coffee bars by the train tracks."
Finnie can
also remember doing a lot of singing while she was growing up, even doing some jingle and pilot recording sessions. "We had
a family friend who was a piano player, and he got me into the studio when I was seven or eight, somewhere around there,"
she remembers. "I began singing in the third grade, and by the time I got to junior high, a singer was what I wanted to be."
Finnie, who
will appear tomorrow night at Bean Town
in Sierra Madre, seemed pretty well destined to be able to pursue that goal. By the time she reached Pasadena
High School, her interests had turned to the classics, and in the choirs there
she learned the Latin Masses and Mozart's "Requiem," along with a steady diet of musical comedies.
"My (music)
teacher there was a member of the Roger Wagner Chorale, and she was quite serious about what she did," Finnie says. "It rubbed
off on me."
Then, in the
11th grade, while singing in a rehearsal, Finnie suddenly developed a severely hoarse voice. "My parents took me
to this fancy Beverly Hills laryncologist, who found that I had nodules on my
vocal chords. At the time, the surgical procedure to clean them out was dangerous, because they weren't sure how you would
come out of it...there was no guarantee you would be better, and a lot of times, with the scar tissue, it could end up worse.
Of course, he said they could also just go away eventually, especially if I stayed mute for at least six months. But that
is hard to do at 15. So we ended up doing nothing, even though it left me with this handicapped voice. It was a big blow,
and I didn't do anymore singing for quite awhile, other than some background singing for a little while with this rock band."
She worked
in music stores for a while, and began gaining an appreciation for other styles of music past the classical realm. Then, one
night in Pasadena, while working as a DJ between sets, playing rockabilly records, she met Ronnie Mack, a local singer who
a year earlier had begun hosting the Barndance, which was on its way to becoming one of the best-known and longest-running
live showcases for the Southern California folk/country/roots rock community.
"He told me
I should come check it out, which I did," she says. "But I wasn't ready to sit in yet, at least not there. Instead, Ronnie
was working with pianist Fats Mizzell at the Tam O'Shanter Inn in Atwater, playing
standards, country and roots rock tunes three nights a week. I did go down there and began trying out this new voice. That's
how I began singing again, only this time I was doing pop music. I found that, though I had long since given up trying to
do classical, I could do this, because it was more about feeling than virtuosity and technique. Here I was, with this new,
deep voice that didn't have a whole lot of range...it sure wasn't the one I grew up with. But I focused my singing on communicating
an emotion through song."
She likens
it to ice skating. "There is a certain gallery of movements you have to do, which is similar to the agility of your voice
in classical music. But in popular music, it is wide open, which is why wonderful people like Tom Waits can pursue their art.
That is why now, when I sing, I don't stick to any single genre. I just feature my favorite songwriters and song types that
are so essential. And coming back to this, making a later start than most people, it's really only been a year-and-a-half
now that I've been doing the serious gigging. I think I have a greater appreciation for it."
Finnie decided
it was time for a change, so she applied to NYU as a transfer student and got accepted. So she headed east for several years,
living in Greenwich Village while earning a degree in dramatic literature and theater history. "It
was really an English degree, only we read plays instead of novels," she explains. "I had become obsessed with moving to New
York, and it was a real pivotal time of growth for me. But I still have the student loan bills every
month to remind me of my impulsiveness. It is difficult to live there without money."
She
sighs. "It was a magical place, though. I was lonely but thrilled at the same time, and I had all sorts of life experiences
there, weird things like seeing my first dead body. Now when I watch "Law and Order" reruns, I can get that (New
York) vibe again."
When
she eventually came home, Finnie began sitting in at Barndances, and she began meeting an ever-widening circle of musicians
who have backed her in various groupings. "When I was thinking about a band name, I couldn't decide so I asked my friends
for suggestions," she laughs. "I got flooded with names that were great, and I really couldn't choose one, so now I'm just
going down the list, though certain combinations have (somewhat) constant names, because you've got to give the proprietors
a break. But it has got to be about the fun!"
And
fun is what you will get when you see and hear Finnie and her various groups perform. She is extremely eclectic with her set
lists, and nearly everything is game, from Dylan and Cash to the Beach Boys and ELO. She has also begun writing some wry,
witty original tunes, though giving birth to them has been a slow, painful process.
"I've got five
I'm comfortable with, and a sixth is on its way," she laughs. "I am such a fan of songwriters that it has been difficult to
be comfortable writing myself, because I've got such high standards, but I'm starting to relax. I used to throw them in the
trash, but now I'm not so paralyzed by self-doubt.
"And besides,"
she adds, "I think I've got enough now to go into the studio with, along with some covers. I'm also beginning to think about
how they'll sound on record. I'm starting to wrap my mind around the idea, and hopefully, I'll have something by the end of
the year."
Lisa Finnie
is proof once again that it is never too late to bloom, even if the flower is a lot different than it used to be.
LISA FINNIE
& THE BACKTALKERS
8 p.m. Saturday
Bean
Town, 45 N. Baldwin Ave., Sierra
Madre
Free (there
will be tip jar)
(626) 355-1596
