The
song has been well received. "Bluesy and bittersweet, it's good enough
to make daddy proud," Entertainment Weekly stated in a B+ review,
and the single has been added to playlists in major radio markets around
the country, including New York and Los Angeles. VH1 immediately began
showing the stylish video for the song and plans to broadcast an "All
Access" documentary timed to the album's release.
But the radio hosts Ms. Presley spoke to often seemed more interested
in asking her about Mr. Jackson, whose appearance on ABC's "20/20" in
a documentary by the British journalist Martin Bashir had recently triggered
a fresh round of controversy about his obsessive interest in children,
his plastic surgeries and his all-around weirdness. She took the inquiries
in stride.
"I walked away from that a long time ago," she said of her marriage
to Mr. Jackson, whom she divorced in 1996. "I was still relatively
young, and trying to decide what would be better for me: being with someone
who doesn't have anything, and then they get trampled and have no ego because
they just become `Mr. Presley,' or being with someone whose situation is
comparable to mine." Before Mr. Jackson, Ms. Presley was married to
the musician Danny Keough for six years; they had two children together
and remain close friends.
"I was hoping that we'd be more equal," she continued about
Mr. Jackson. "I was in love with him at the time — and he doesn't
always act the way he did in that interview. I did feel bad about that — the
director followed him around for eight months and edited it down to two
hours. You can manipulate it any way you want. I mean, somebody could do
that to me. But I'm sure I had the same reaction everybody else did when
they saw it: it was a train wreck. I don't have to clean up that mess.
"Then I read about all this voodoo stuff," she went on, alluding
to a recent Vanity Fair article that claimed Mr. Jackson had paid someone
to cast spells on people he thought of as his enemies. "I thought,
`What the hell's going on now?' I can't even follow it, it's so crazy.
I have no sympathy for that."
While 35 is ancient for an artist releasing a debut album these days,
Ms. Presley claimed that music has always been her first love. "My
mom came to rehearsal one day," she recalled, "and she said,
`I remember when you were 3 or 4, you didn't want to go play with your
friends because you had your 45's and you'd rather listen to them.' I was
always blasting music in my room, and it got me through all the tough times
in my life."
Among her favorites she includes Aretha Franklin, Pat Benatar, Heart and
Ms. Amos — "all those strong women," as she puts it.
Over the years she took singing lessons, wrote songs and recorded demos
in studios she built at her various homes. She was reluctant to start a
career as a singer, however, in large part because she feared the inevitable
comparisons to her father.
Wary of producing work that would only subject her to withering criticism,
Ms. Presley sought — including in her relationships, most notably
her marriage to Mr. Jackson — a collaborator who could help her sharpen
her musical vision. In 1998 she seemed to complete that search when she
signed a contract with Java Records, a label owned by Glen Ballard, who
is best known for producing Alanis Morissette's blockbuster album, "Jagged
Little Pill." Ms. Presley essentially completed an album with Mr.
Ballard and other producers, but an executive shake-up at Capitol, Java's
parent company, delayed its release. In May 2001, Andrew Slater, who had
produced debut albums by Fiona Apple, Macy Gray and the Wallflowers, took
over as Capitol's president. Deciding what to do about Ms. Presley's "long-belabored" project
was among his first priorities.
"Like everyone else I was skeptical," Mr. Slater said. "Was
she a celebrity who just wanted to be a pop star? Then when I listened
to what she'd done, I was confused by the record but intrigued by her.
For me, it's pretty immediate: I either believe the singer, or I don't.
I believed her, and I looked at the lyrics and realized that she was a
good songwriter stuck in the wrong musical context."
Mr. Slater shared his impressions with Ms. Presley, who liked what she
heard. Mr. Ballard's label deal expired — he eventually moved Java
to Def Jam — but Ms. Presley elected to stay with Capitol. Stealing
time from his new corporate duties, Mr. Slater produced "Lights Out" — at
one point, in affectionate exasperation, offering the stubborn singer $50
to enunciate the song's closing line more clearly, an offer she accepted.
But when he learned of Ms. Presley's admiration for Ms. Amos, he recommended
that Mr. Rosse produce her album.
Initially, Mr. Rosse was, well, skeptical. "It was a surprising call
to get, just because of who she is," Mr. Rosse said. "But I was
struck when I heard her voice. It's got this deep, low, husky quality — I
got a cool vibe from it. I thought if we started over and stripped the
songs down, I could create the right musical framework for her." In
the end, Mr. Rosse honored the rock, folk and country sources of Ms. Presley's
sound, but complicated them with smart guitar treatments and alluring keyboard
and rhythmic effects. The result is contemporary, but not at all contrived,
and Ms. Presley's vocals more than hold their own in the foreground of
the arrangements. Her soulful drawl is an inheritance from her father,
though you'd be unlikely to make that explicit connection if you didn't
know her last name.
Mr. Rosse describes himself as "obscure" and "underground," and
the decision to have him produce Ms. Presley was part of a strategy to
keep down the volume of hype on "To Whom It May Concern" — relatively
speaking, of course. "Lights Out" was released without much fanfare,
and, in the face of an avalanche of requests, Ms. Presley, Mr. Weintraub
and Mr. Slater are being cautious about how many — and what type — of
media appearances she's making. "This is not an overblown campaign," Mr.
Slater said. Most significantly, she has been interviewed by Diane Sawyer
for a special that is scheduled to be broadcast on ABC on Thursday.
"Lisa's drive is not about being a star — she's already a celebrity," said
Mr. Weintraub, who was approached by Ms. Presley three years ago because
she admired the career he had helped shape for Sheryl Crow, whom he also
manages. "It wasn't, `Find me some songs, put me in the right clothes
and let's capitalize on my name.' Her celebrity is a pitfall, actually.
People have seen her in the tabloids and, somewhat rightfully, their attitude
about the album is, `What's that going to be like?' My strategy is, first,
to just let people hear the music, and then to let her get out there live
to show people that she's real, that she's got what it takes."
In the ballad "Nobody Noticed It," Ms. Presley responds to an "E!
True Hollywood Story" documentary about her father's last days that
she said "tried to take his dignity away." Over a brooding, dramatic
musical bed, she sings, "And I wanted you to know that I haven't forgotten/
Well, they tried to make you look broken/ But not while I'm living." That
search for respectability, that desire not simply to be a punch line, is
her own struggle, as well as her father's.
Ms. Presley was 9 when her father died in 1977, but their relationship
was extremely close. In just one example of how she was indulged, Presley
flew with his daughter on a private jet to Idaho after she mentioned that
she had never seen snow. They landed, she played in the snow for half an
hour, they flew home. "I just knew that he adored me," she said,
smiling dreamily as she thought about her father. "I wasn't thinking,
`Oooh, I get to fly,' or anything like that. I never thought that it was
weird or unusual. I just knew he was crazy about me, and that was just
him showing his love for me. He was just doing what was in his heart.
"That's part of the problem with my love life," she continued. "I'm
looking for someone similar to him, and nobody could ever compare. He was
so extraordinary a presence — not even as an entertainer, just as
a person. Yes, he sang well, and, yes, the songs were great, but that was
him coming through the music. He was bigger than life — and he still
is."
As "To Whom It May Concern" is about to come out, do the inevitable
comparisons still frighten her? "I just had to park it," she
said, taking a deep breath. "It would drive me crazy if I didn't.
To a certain extent, it's just going to happen, and I'm, like, `You can't
let yourself not do anything because you're afraid of it.' I don't think
anything I'm doing is like what he did, and I've never claimed it is. It's
my own thing. I'm just trying to be an artist. I'm not trying to be Elvis
Presley's child. And I'm not trying to run from it either."
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