Feminist rocker Joy Askew helped change the image of women in rock

Challenging the Y-Chromosome: Women in Rock

Musician Joy Askew Lectures at Manhattan

By: Lisa Bernier and Kathleen Bulson

Posted: 3/8/06

It's good be tough in rock n' roll. From the way Joy Askew talks, it's practically a requisite. Looking at her, with her long blonde hair, high cheekbones and mild demeanor, one never would guess the strength underneath. On the other hand, perhaps one might, because as soon as she breaks out her guitar and starts singing, it's evident that she's an old hand in the music business. In an industry that regularly eats aspiring singers for lunch, Ms. Askew has forged a lasting career that has included tours with major artists such as Peter Gabriel and the Rolling Stones. She has also recorded six albums as a solo artist. A sweetheart with a spine of steel; feminists and musicians alike, take notice.

During her talk in Smith Auditorium on Feb. 20, Ms. Askew discussed in depth her career as a musician in rock, which she refers to as "a bit of a boys club." Dressed casually in an East Village artist aesthetic, her earthy voice still holds the last vestiges of a British accent. Born in Newcastle, England and completing training in classical technique from the area's Jazz College, she has landed gigs that are astounding in their stylistic range. From lead singer in the punk-sister band "Bitch" in the 60's and 70's, to playing as a keyboardist for major pop artists in the 80's (via the legendary Joe Jackson,) to performance art with Laurie Anderson in the 90's, it seems that stylistically at least, Ms. Askew has come full circle. Listening to her perform one of the songs on her upcoming album (further information about her may be found on her MySpace account, which Ms. Askew jokingly revealed forced her to list her music as "other") the early British rock influences of the Beatles, Bob Dylan, and Jimi Hendrix is blatantly clear. Not quite smoky, not quite raw, her voice has an easy personality that reflects, like her slender physique and still fresh complexion, a graceful descent into middle age. Ms. Askew's further narration of her experiences (which were accompanied by a slide show revealed her as a younger, sweet toned brunette) was a lesson in both musicality and gender studies.

Ironically, Ms. Askew's love for music was implanted by male influences. The first were her father and her brother, both heavily involved in music themselves (one a jazz performer, the other her first band leader), and sources of early encouragement. The second was a peripheral fellow musician who informed her that she "can't be a musician because she's a singer." His comment backfired, as instead of discouraging her, it drove her to carve a niche for herself in the business. Defiance in reaction to prejudice seems to be a pattern with Ms. Askew. She was hounded and harassed by male crew and musicians on both the road and stage. The reason for such strident sexism, Ms. Askew theorized, was that she "represented every single female aspect they didn't want to be reminded of. The mother, the sister, the wife they were cheating on." She commented that far from being a deterrent, it pushed her to develop her skills to the utmost. "You have to be twice as good. You have to be solid and confident," she told the audience.

Fielding questions about the music industry in general, she advised aspiring performers that, "you have to have the nerve to push yourself…a good session musician isn't someone who doesn't make a mistake, it's the guy who knows where he made the mistake and can fix it." Reminiscing in a dryly amused tone about her earliest career decisions, she said, "at…[a young] age, you're reckless, arrogant, and you don't give a damn. And it does so much for you." This was after revealing to the crowd that she had lied about her instrumental range to land a gig.

It would seem that by now Ms. Askew has paid her dues, and has for the most part vanquished the sexist attitudes held against her. Not true; after more than twenty-five years in the industry the famous girl power pow-wow of Lilith Fair (in which she performed), is not much different. She said its female singers upfront with male musicians in back. Indeed, now she has an additional demon to face: ageism. It seems that the battle is never over for a woman in rock. Yet Ms. Askew could not imagine another life: "I knew I loved music, and I couldn't bear to be without it."