Bio

Whatever you do, don't ask Melanie where she's been.

Not because she'd get annoyed, or stalk out of the room. In fact, she'd probably laugh -- that warm, throaty, good-vibe chuckle that her friends know so well.

So, what the heck, maybe it's okay to ask after all. But there's a lot more to her saga than where she's been. More important is where she's at -- which is right in the middle of a creative explosion
that's without precedent in her career.

That is, of course, saying a lot, for Melanie can look back on 30 years' worth of accomplishments and firsts. Much of what we take for granted in music traces back to her in one way or another. She was the first solo female performer to cross over from the folk/rock netherworld to pop stardom. Melanie was the first folk/rock artist to perform at both Carnegie Hall, London's Royal Albert Hall, Madison Square Garden, the first folk/rock solo artist to perform at the New Metropolitan Opera House in New York, and the first to perform in front of the General Assembly of the United Nations. The crowd at the original Woodstock Festival in 1969 Bethel, New York set a tradition during Melanie's performance that endures to this day at concerts. The massive crowd, so moved by the performance of her hit "Beautiful People," illuminated the nighttime sky with a sea of candles and
cigarette lighters. And, she has headlined at every Woodstock Festival since then, including the twentieth anniversary gathering, where she was introduced onstage by the father of Jimi Hendrix.

She has also released more than 30 albums, including Lay Down (Candles In the Rain), the landmark recording of 1970, which sold more than one million copies and earned her recognition from Billboard, Cashbox, Melody Maker, Record World, and Bravo as female vocalist of the year. Her 1971 #1 single "Brand New Key," the infectious romp about independence and roller skates, had the most cynical of rockers singing along. Rock pundits analyzed her style and her success often concluding, as did seminal New York Times pop music critic John Rockwell, that Melanie's songs " have an evocative, introspective power [her] phrasing is especially compelling when she slips in and out of conversational declamation and back to song; only Patti Smith has equaled her in this regard. The combination of all these gifts commands a crowd with mesmerizing power. Melanie's cult has long been famous, but it's a cult that's responding to something genuine and powerful - which is maybe another way of saying that this writer counts himself as part of the cult, too."

That's plenty but compared to what's going on with Melanie now, it's all just the warm-up.

Picture this: Her everyday life, for several months now, involves prolific writing and recording -- not the kind where you hunch over a blank piece of paper in search of inspiration, but something closer
to trying to channel a rush of ideas that's almost impossible to control. For a moment, her longtime husband and producer Peter Schekeryk watched her at work, puzzled and amazed -- then, taking the hint, put on his studio hat and jumped into the action. Beau, their musically gifted son, helped arrange the material as it poured forth, contributed his own virtuoso acoustic guitar parts, and joined his father in production duties.

With everyone working overtime, the songs took form: songs about solitude, about anger here and
there, even about smiling. Songs of idealism, songs that ache with love, songs sprinkled with humor and irony yet untouched by cynicism or resignation.

The results of this astonishing burst can be heard on Crazy Love. Even in a catalog of more than 30 albums, this one stands out for its variety, its intensity, and -- why not? -- its sheer brilliance. But
it raises questions as well: How did it happen? What started this torrent? There was never any question that Melanie, whose music first mesmerized listeners in the late '60s, had it in her to recapture the magic -- but why now?

"I hadn't been prolific over the past few years," she admits. "I was touring a lot, but I just wasn't inspired to write. I'd write a line, or half a song. I made myself write things, but nothing excited me
enough to say, 'Let's go into the recording studio with it.'"

That changed when Melanie began an unusual project: Moments From My Life, a collection of songs made famous by her peers. Packaged for release in Europe, it allowed her to step back briefly from writing and focus entirely on her singing. Almost immediately she felt a change in her voice -- a change that would unlock the door once more to her own productivity.

"It was like something opened up," she says. "My voice suddenly sounded so good to me, and it kept getting better and better. All of a sudden I started writing. It was almost like I couldn't stop
myself."

Within a month she had finished 15 songs, which became the basis of Crazy Love. But that wasn't enough. Even as Peter and Beau were putting final touches on her latest material, Melanie was writing
more. Each new song seemed stronger than the last; to make room, the track list kept changing.

With every update, the focus of Crazy Love tightened. "The thing about this album," she explains, "is that for the first time I'm not afraid to voice exactly what I feel. For some reason I used to feel
that I didn't want to say too much. I was more private in the past, but now...Well, here, I jotted this down last night. Let me read it to you."

And here is Melanie's reflection on Crazy Love: "I think this might be it. This may be why I'm here. I'm supposed to tell you -- life's dirty little trick -- that we are all born with one difference, or maybe more, or maybe one thing that makes us feel isolated. One thing, or maybe more, that makes us feel we keep a secret from the rest, and that makes us feel alone and keeps us alone for all our days. And it's just not so. It's just a rotten joke."

So for this unique artist, Crazy Love has been an epiphany, musically and personally. It's about bringing Beau into her professional circle; his computer wizardry and stunning guitar play a critical
role throughout the album. "'You Can Find Anything Here' is a total Beau thing," she smiles. "That counter melody at the end is his; he took that into a whole other realm. If I had just played it on
guitar, this would be just a little ditty. His production makes it a record."

It's about invigorating her writing, exploring unusual settings, and delivering the results with a brio that's rare in modern music. "I use different genres in Crazy Love," Melanie explains. "I'm not in
them, but I use them to express the feel of a particular song."

It's about finding light in the darkness of recent events, or in the emptiness that can inhabit music itself. "I wrote this down last night too," she says. "'My lyrics mostly are cryptic messages.' For
me, it's the spaces around the words that you leave out that tell everything. 'Smile,' for example, is my reaction to 9/11. There was so much fear then, but those few weeks also made me love the human
race again." (Typically for Melanie, "Smile" expresses itself with a disarming, poetic eloquence. Rather than rattle sabers or thump the bully pulpit, she sings, "I love people who smile/If everybody
smiles, we'll have a hometown all over the world Lights in the window all through our darkest day/Human kindness outdistances being afraid."

To really appreciate Crazy Love, put it into context: Her trajectory took her from an musically inclined household in Astoria, Queens, through the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in Manhattan, to
coffeehouse gigs in Greenwich Village and, suddenly, to stardom in the wake of her performance at Woodstock '69, and beyond that to enshrinement as an icon of an era. She has worked nonstop since then, and won distinctions that range from an Emmy Award for writing "The
First Time I Loved Forever" for the television show "Beauty and the Beast," to being appointed as a spokesperson for UNICEF. She and Peter have raised three children, founded their own record company long before such initiative was fashionable, and developed a bond that time has only strengthened.

And still, something was missing. 'A Brand New Key' set the tone all the way back in the early '70s, because it was so cute. My face was so cute. I couldn't help it: A camera pointed at me, and I'd
smile. I was very bad at angst -- and songwriters, especially, had to be good with angst."

Patience, however, brings its own rewards. For one thing, " Brand New Key," which has been covered by everyone from the Four Freshman to alt-diva cellists Rasputina, is about to run in an ALLTEL ad
campaign, angst or no angst. (It's on Crazy Love too, as dizzy and delightful as a carousel twirl.) More to the point, Crazy Love has more expressive voice than ever, more adventurous songwriting, and
all the talent that lives within her unleashed.

The next several months are rich with possibilities for Melanie and her family. She and Peter are looking at ways to expand her upcoming tour into something more than traditional concerts, something that reflects the trust and compassion that's always guided her. Beau is
about to release his own debut, a mix of vocal and instrumental tracks.

Then there are the months and years that lie further ahead, which surely will unfold along lines forecast by Crazy Love. This is only the beginning of her renaissance -- a transformation that is really
about going back to what was always there, within her.

"Say a prayer until we all get home" she sings, in that full, soulful voice that she discovered on Crazy Love. In fact, she is home already. That's where Melanie has been. You're invited to join her there.

-Rob Doerschuk