Melissa Etheridge

Beginning with her debut album “Melissa Etheridge” (1988), she has written and performed innumerable hits, including “Ain’t It Heavy,” (Grammy®, 1992), “I’m the Only One” and “Come to My Window” (Grammy® Award for Best Female Rock Performance, 1995). She then issued her highest charting album, Your Little Secret, leading her to receive the Songwriter of the Year honor at the ASCAP Pop Awards in 1996. Ensuing albums include Skin (2001), Lucky (2004), and the DVDs Live And Alone (2002) and Lucky Live (2004). Her Greatest Hits: The Road Less Traveled (2005), recently re-released, included Melissa's Oscar® winning song, “I Need To Wake Up.” In 2007, she released her ninth studio album, The Awakening, (One of Rolling Stone magazine’s Top 50 Albums of 2007). In April 2007, Melissa Etheridge received the distinguished ASCAP Founders Award honoring the anthemic power, compassion, and generosity of spirit of her music, and her enduring status as one of the greatest alltime female rock icons.

MB: How long have you been performing?

ME: Well, I first got up in front of a group of strangers when I was eleven years old. And I was hooked after that.

MB: What made you hooked?

ME: The thrill! I was sick to my stomach, but when I was done they all applauded, and I went, “Wow! All right! Let me do that again!”

MB: So you started out sick to your stomach and you ended up thrilled. Could you say what caused that transformation?

ME: First you actually have to have the dream; first you have to have the desire to actually want to sacrifice yourself on stage. That desire is a crazy one, but it gets inside you. For me, that feeling first came when I was three years old and listening to The Beatles’ “I Want to Hold Your Hand” on a transistor radio. I was just transported.

I listened to all kinds of music [when I was young]. My father brought a guitar home for my sister when I was eight years old, and I begged to play it, begged to play it. I wanted to learn because I had been pretending to play on badminton rackets, jumping around the house. But the guitar teacher said, “No, you’re too young.” And I said, “Please let me try.” He went, “Well, all right.” And I was out of my mind; I wanted to play the guitar so badly. My fingers were bleeding, but I was playing it. And so he taught me. Then I let guitar playing go when I was nine years old, but when I was ten, got back into it. I learned chords. And once I learned chords, I said, “You know, I can write a song.” (This was the early seventies. There was a lot of folk music.) And I would visit my friends and sing; I would write these songs and we would all sing them.

One day, my friend called and said, “Hey, there’s a talent show. Do you want to go sing your song?” And I thought, “Why not?” So I went. There were two other girls singing one of my songs with me. And I felt this nervousness, and also excitement. That’s what I tell people: that feeling that you attribute to nervousness is also excitement.

I try in my mind to go, “I’m excited. That’s what’s making my stomach feel this way.” And my desire to be on stage and transform this energy, to get this music out, and to give it to the people is greater than any fear I have.

MB: Did your nervousness or excitement change as you continued to perform? Or is it the same now as it was when you were eleven?

ME: No, no. Gosh, no. The guy who headed that talent show, the emcee, put together a variety show that he would take around to the old folks’ homes, to the prisons and schools and stuff. So I started performing on that level. I was part of this whole big thing, and I would go out and do one or two songs, and I would be nervous. But by the fourth of fifth time I did it . . . I would make mistakes, but I would forgive myself for them and go through with it. And the next time I got up to do it, it was a little easier.

Then the stakes were raised. There was a musical group that knew one of the singers in the variety show, and they asked if I would come play with them. They had real gigs, playing for Parents Without Partners and Knights of Columbus—real, paying gigs. That brought a whole new kind of nervousness.

After I did that for a while, I became a member of the band. Then I’d play every Friday and Saturday night. So now I’m twelve or thirteen years old, and I’m getting in front of people every week and doing this, on top of doing things in school. And there would always be a certain amount of nervousness. But I’d also recognize that it was excitement and that I really loved doing this. And at each step along the way, there would be more comfort.

When people ask me, “Don’t you ever get stage fright?” I say, “Look, everything that could possibly happen to you on stage has happened to me: My clothes have fallen off; I’ve fallen off the stage; every single piece of equipment has stopped working. Everything that could happen to you has happened to me.”

The bottom line is that the audience is really on your side. I’ve always thought that way about an audience. They want to have a good experience, so if you just keep that in mind, you can handle whatever comes along.