Blondie - Maria

My mother has positively influenced me in only one part of my life: music. 

All through the the time she carried me, she sang and played music for me. I was three years old, wobbling in her high heels on the dresser drawers, pretending I was on a stage, singing a Patsy Cline song. Music was ALWAYS playing in our house, whether it was her New Wave favorites or my father's classic rock LPs. This can clearly show where my obsession with music began. Being home with my mom a lot while my dad worked, I heard New Wave more often than not. The Talking Heads, New Order, Elvis Costello, David Bowie, and Blondie.

Deborah Harrey, Blondie's lead singer, was clearly my mother's idol. Blondie rose to popularity just as my mother was hitting her teenage rebellion phase, when she ran away to work the bustling music scene that Austin, Texas had become. Debbie was blonde, sexy, and a vocal powerhouse--what every girl would die to be. She had an unapologetic style, and stood firmly on her own two feet in a kind of world that was predominantly male. Songs like"Heart Of Glass" and "Shayla" offered up a sweet, breathy mezzo-soprano; whereas "Atomic" and "Victor" gave you an earth-shattering alto/contralto range that made you wonder if this could possibly even be the same girl. 

When I was nine years old, Blondie released No Exit, which was hailed as their triumphant return to the music scene. "Maria" was the first track and the first single. My mother ripped the CD out of the case with eager hands and slipped it into the stereo system for the first time. I remember her jumping with glee as the opening electric guitar rift sounded through our house, and my eyes widened with surprise as she began dancing as soon as the drum kicked in. Somehow, she already knew all the words and sung along at the top of her lungs. I didn't know it, but I joined in when I could, and danced around with her. I was a tangle of arms and legs at nine, and was (and still am) almost a perfect carbon copy of her when she was my age. 

My mother's voice was always a little too flat, a little too out of control. She had the raw power and edge similar to singers like Janis Joplin and Alanis Morisette, and with a few voice lessons (or maybe just a better trained ear) she would've been absolutely fantastic. But there was something absolutely enchanting about the way she would toss her short blonde hair back and sing along to "Maria" with all of her might whenever it came on--the car, the house, wherever. She didn't care who listened, or who didn't, or if it sounded good or not. To this day, I envy that quality. As a musician, I'm always super conscious of how I sound or how it feels or who's listening. Even in the shower, I watch my pitch.

I recently re-discovered this song, like I do every year or so, and once I put it on, I have to fight the urge to jump around and dance like I did the first time. I have to sing along, even though the verses are sung so low it hurts. And only after listening to see if my roommates are home and checking that no one can possibly hear me and confirming with my boyfriend that he has not left his house yet so he can't walk in on me, I'll toss my unruly blonde waves back and sing along to "Maria" with all of my might.