For anyone who thought straight-ahead pop'n'roll was the exclusive territory of men, Sam Phillips has released Martinis and Bikinis (Virgin) to remind everyone that women too can be influenced by the Beatles.
Phillips latest triumph, Martinis and Bikinis, is a watershed because the singer, a former gospel diva, has crafted a seamless pop masterpiece that convinces the listener that all those backward guitar solos, warped and psychedelic vocals and flower-power keyboard fills are uniquely her own invention. She evokes the memory of the Fab Four without drowning in nostalgia; she mimics John, Paul, George and Ringo (especially john) without sounding like an unimaginative rip-off artist - and you can dance to it too!
The fact that Martinis and Bikinis is only Phillips' third major label release should not lure people into thinking that this 32-year-old singer is a rookie. Phillips has been wailing away on the gospel circuit for years. She even cut a number of gospel albums in the `80s. So why the change to pure pop? "I felt that gospel wasn't pure enough," she says in here slow Southern drawl. "What I mean is gospel didn't hold the honesty and truth for me that rock'n'roll does. I guess what I craved was freedom and excitement."
Phillips undoubtedly gets plenty of excitement from her partner in music and life, husband T Bone Burnett. "He's the orchestrator of my music in many ways," says Phillips. "He produced Martinis and it was both our idea to give the record these Beatle flourishes. But he's really into the late-period Beatles and I think it shows. Sometimes we had to say, `Hey, cool it on the Fab Four!' There'd be a wee bit much Strawberry Fields on this one, or I Am The Walrus, on that one, y'know? But it all turned out best in the end. I think this is my most provocative work to date."
Much of the provocation can be attributed to Phillips' unique lyrical outlook. On songs like I Can't Please You (the first single) and the title track, Phillips weaves images of despair with messages of hope, juxtaposing dichotomous emotions and concepts that achieve a kind of spiraling, cascading milieu. "I like to see how different elements can play themselves out in the same song," she says. "It's hard to achieve a balance sometimes - you don't want to appear schizophrenic - but that's what life is really like; conflicting feelings and experiences. And you have to make sense out of `em."
Phillips also chose to cover John Lennon's Truth, a sparse, almost cryptic plea for honesty in a world of confusion and betrayal that leaves Martinis and Bikinis on a haunting, searching note. "It was actually T Bone's idea to do that one," she admits. "This might sound funny, but I wasn't that much into Lennon's solo work, just Imagine really. but when I heard the song I was like a light going on for me. `A-ha!' One of those moments right? Like this is what I was after. You couldn't get more direct! Al I want is the truth, just give me some truth. In this world there are so many people and elements pulling you in every direction that it's hard to gain perspective and to know what's right for you. Life can be overwhelming, and if people aren't playing fair with you, which they almost never do, then the choices get really hard.
Does she ever regret making the switch from God's music to rock'n'roll? "You mean the Devil's music? No, because I think music - any kind - is the most healing force on Earth. God created music to heal us and delight us, and it's meaningful in whatever form it takes. Right now, this is the form I'm working in. Everything I do is spiritual anyway when you get right down to it."