The entertaining and enlightening documentary covering Linda Ronstadt’s personal life and career, The Sound Of My Voice, notes the woman’s opening slot for Neil Young in his early stadium tours, a discussion that serves to highlight the ascension of Ronstadt’s own popularity. Yet her rise to comparable heights of success wasn’t the lightning-fast arc of the overnight sensation, but instead, a slow rise to well-earned fame based on the consistently high-quality of her records and regular touring in support of them.
Linda’s presentation with her band in this venerable venue of New York state’s capital city was just one such stop. Just about two months prior to her first appearance on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine (still considered an honor at this point), Linda Ronstadt had commenced a lengthy itinerary in support of the previous year’s release of Heart Like A Wheel; her final album of the tenure at Capitol Records, begun when she first made a name for herself in 1967 as the voice of The Stone Poneys on an interpretation of Mike Nesmith’s pre-Monkee tune “Different Drum,” the LP would spend an entire year near the top of the charts and send Ronstadt’s public profile skyrocketing.
Composed of an excellent cross-section of her best material from the past few years, focused heavily on the above-mentioned album as well as its predecessor Don’t Cry Now, appearances like this one also provided previews of where she would be heading on the Prisoner In Disguise album (released in September this same year). Ronstadt sang with an unaffected demeanor accompanied by a tightly-knit ensemble as empathetic as it was polished: musicians including guitarist/keyboardist/vocalist Andrew Gold were eager and willing to supply musicianship redolent with all the same passion with which Linda herself engaged her audiences. The attendees this evening were repeatedly left agog by the deceptive intensity of the unassuming, diminutive figure out in front of the stellar complement of the combo.
Within the cozy confines of the Palace on this mid-winter night, Ronstadt tendered a near-perfect dynamic balance of songs. The juxtaposition of “Willin’,” written by the late titular leader of Little Feat, Lowell George, and “Colorado,” composed by Rick Roberts for the latter-day Flying Burrito Brothers, supplied evidence of Rondstadt’s early championing of the country-rock hybrid, as did the cover of Eagles’ “Desperado” (members of which band once played in the woman’s backing group a few years prior). Meanwhile, the delicate balladry of Anna McGarrigle’s title song for Linda’s aforementioned breakthrough record, combined with an earthy take on Martha & The Vandellas’ Motown chestnut “Heat Wave ” was indicative of Ronstadt’s eclectic taste.
Would the woman’s overall stage presence always match her musical virtues? Not wholly at ease with much between-song patter, her deadpan, tongue-in-cheek intro of “When Will I Be Loved” fell flat, despite–or because of?–the reference to “Kung Fu Fighting” (one of the best-selling singles of the period). That trivial faux pas aside, however, Ronstadt and the band were otherwise mutually inspired and, in turn, bonded as an integrated ensemble, not a singer with backup; the musicians found themselves taken with the chosen material plus the performance of the frontwoman, while she was spurred on as much by the unfaltering accompaniment she received as she sang the songs for which she obviously held so much affection.
Yet, through it all, Linda Ronstadt never engaged in any vocal histrionics. She did approach the threshold of yelling on “You’re No Good,” but never stepped over it, thereby retaining the tuneful quality of her phrasing and delivery. “Love Has No Pride” also reaffirmed Ronstadt’s innate ability to simultaneously express power and vulnerability at a time when feminism in pop was, as in the culture at large, still in its nascent stages: Linda’s rousing interpretation of “Silver Threads and Golden Needles” only cemented that impression left in yet another of the one-two punches that dominated the hour-plus set.
The combination of a hearty work ethic and prolific artistry earned Linda Ronstadt a revered status in the Seventies that’s unfortunately dissipated somewhat over the course of time. But that’s partially due to her purposeful efforts beyond the mainstream scope of pop/rock–in the fields of opera and the traditional Spanish music of her heritage–and also because she stopped performing somewhat unexpectedly in 2013 due to her affliction with Parkinson’s disease.
Due to sit-ins from opener David Bromberg, a slightly shorter concert two days later at the Capitol Theatre in Passaic, N.J. may possess a higher profile than this one north of The Big Apple. But it’s hard to imagine it could’ve been much more satisfying.
One Response
Doug; I read yesterday with great interest your article of two years ago regarding the performance by Linda Ronstadt at the Palace here in Albany, it was a great review and as a side note you might be interested in how I came to meet Linda the morning of the concert. I was the head bookkeeper at the downtown Motel on Broadway just down the street from the Palace. We were notified in advance that Linda was to check in with her Band and roadies the morning of her concert, the Motel staff were all abuzz as Linda had perhaps three songs in the top ten and I had her album. The Staff wanted to do something nice for her and a collection was taken up for a beautiful bouquet to be placed in her room, the dining room was going to make something special for her. I approached our GM and told him of our plans he was reticent and said don’t get your hopes up I’ve met many celebs and the majority are not what they seem to be but go ahead but I’m dubious. The day came and we all were anxious for Linda’s arrival and I told the front desk staff to let me know as soon as she walks in. Suddenly one of the FD staff came running in and said she’s here, I jumped up ran out to the lobby and asked where’s Linda? A young girl standing about five feet two was wearing what looked like over alls and munching on an apple said I’m Linda and said “hi”. It struck me as she did not look like Linda at all, like many young men I had a huge crush on her but was this the girl I stare at from pictures in magazines? The next morning I arrived for work and could tell from the frown on staff’s faces that something was amiss, I asked is Linda still here, the answer was no they left real early but that is not all. They told me her and her entourage did not like the food nor service and were rude to dining staff and left a very small tip, they also said that is not the worst of it, apparently Linda threw the bouquet out of the window, she was on one of the top floors and they asked me to go with them to the back parking lot where some of the remnants still lie. I was livid to say the least and staff was virtually in tears, I’m glad she checked out because rock star or not I would have scolded her about respect and decency, now I had to face our GM who later on called me into his office and said I warned all of you did I not? For years after I could not listen to her music nor pay any attention whenever her name was mentioned we went out of our way for her and this was the thanks we received, her star burned out in my eyes. However, recently since her unfortunate illness was announced I read most everything I could about her 5 genre musical accomplishments and how she excelled in each and being a former pro drummer I was impressed and also with her activism, I could relate as I lost my gift and passion for my sport of Track and Field and it took me 10 years to get most of my speed back, Linda lost her voice, her gift and has handled it with grace and dignity. I now daily listen to all the songs I avoided and have come to respect her as one of or perhaps greatest female artists of our time, we are the same age and I wish I could talk to her or at least e-mail. Thank you Doug for the article and am glad I found it.