Photograph by Raphael Mazzucco
It’s hard to believe it’s been 11 years since Sarah McLachlan’s Lilith Fair wended its way across North America in Birkenstocks and hemp-made scarves. What started as a small songwriters’ showcase geared toward celebrating female musicians of the folk and adult-contemporary variety has grown into an internationally renowned festival replete with top-billing pop artists and sold-out crowds. Ever since the event announced a 2010 return last year (the first city stop will be Calgary on June 27), posts on a variety of music websites are debating whether the new Lilith lineup will hold a patchouli-scented candle to the legendary concert series produced from 1997 to 1999.
Selling over 1.5 million tickets ($10 million was donated to national and local charities), the event was a labour-intensive effort. “People don’t know how exhausting it is to put on,” McLachlan says over the phone from Vancouver, explaining Lilith’s decade-long hiatus. “We were happy to put it up on the shelf once it ended on a high note [in 1999] because it was just so much work. Aside from juggling the [multi-artist] logistics of it, you have to realize that back then, I felt I had to defend it daily,” she says. “During many of our press conferences, I remember saying, ‘I started a musical festival here, not a political campaign.’ ”
What McLachlan was defending herself from was the copious amounts of criticism Lilith received (a few mainstream magazines, including Rolling Stone, used the words “estrogen-fest” and “feminazis” to describe the crowd). Although proceeds from ticket sales broke records and the bulk of reviews was stellar, McLachlan—who performed at each and every city stop—still took the flak for just about everything connected to Lilith: the charities involved, the lack of shoes worn on stage and the constant use of the other F-word: feminism.
Even now, when McLachlan hears that Italian fashion designer Miuccia Prada recently declared, “Feminism doesn’t really exist anymore, does it?” to the London Times, the Halifax-born talent’s voice shakes. “What world does she live in?” McLachlan asks. “That sounds like a really naive comment. There are so many places on earth where women have no rights and are fifth-class citizens, so I’d be remiss to say feminism is not alive or needed. I don’t know how [Prada] can say that. It’s not innocent, it’s ignorant.”
McLachlan is quick to point out that during her tenure at Lilith’s helm in the late ’90s, she wanted to ensure that equality and inclusion were a big part of Lilith’s official mandate. “There were moments I did feel like I was on a social crusade. Some people thought it was either too feminist or not feminist enough; it either had too many lesbians or not enough lesbians or it was too pro-choice or too this-or-that,” she reflects. “But I’ve realized you can’t please everyone and all those debates made me solidify my views even more.”
A flip through the book From Lilith to Lilith Fair, written by McLachlan’s long-time friend Buffy Childerhose, gives a detailed outline of what Lilith’s goals were and still are: “to promote a community among female artists and fans.” It’s a tag line that 27-year-old indie-rock performer St. Vincent (real name Annie Clark) is far from comfortable with. Clark recently told popular music website Spinner that she feels musicians participating in Lilith Fair are “hop[ping] aboard the marginalizing train,” and insists that the tour “helps perpetuate this idea that what women do in music is acoustic, sincere, sentimental and without edge.”
McLachlan, hearing the comment, comes back with: “Has she even heard of Tegan and Sara?”—referring to the Calgary-born alt-rock duo, who happen to be twins, staunch feminists, proud lesbians and two of Lilith’s headliners. “We never felt ghettoized before, during or after we played Lilith,” says 29-year-old Tegan Quin, while on tour in Toronto to promote her band’s latest disc, Sainthood. “People who know Tegan and Sara know we are certainly not cursed by Lilith.” If anything, Quin reiterates, “Lilith helped us get airplay. There are a million festivals—and we’ve played most of them—but 90 per cent of the bands on all those bills are still men. Women who are a part of [Lilith] are 100 per cent empowered by it. When 15,000 people a night are coming out to see a bunch of girl acts, there’s only one word you can use to describe it: awesome.”
The notion that the tour lacked diversity is something McLachlan and her manager and Lilith co-founder, Terry McBride, have wrestled with ever since Lilith was born. Although Queen Latifah, Missy Elliot and Erykah Badu all shared the main stage during a slew of dates in 1998, many people still presume the event to be a sombre, single-white-female folk-fest. “I learned to set the perception differently from the past Liliths this time around because the media did a very good job at skewing it early on,” says McBride over the phone from his L.A. office. “That’s why my first announcement for [2010’s lineup] had to have 40 artists on it. I made sure there wasn’t one category of music missing from it—Latin, country, rock, dance, indie, pop, heritage and urban.” McLachlan adds, “I would have agreed with [Clark]’s remarks if this was Lilith’s first go round, but it’s not. We are looking to push the envelope now.”
The result of such a push is that the sought-after mix of performers added to this year’s lineup promises the most interesting acts Lilith’s stage has ever seen. The eclectic combo of women includes hit-makers such as Ke$ha and Rihanna, vintage girl groups like the Go-Go’s and the Bangles and country icon Loretta Lynn alongside R & B innovators Mary J. Blige and Jill Scott.
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