HOUSTON. A swan song for pop music’s tragic, troubled queen.
WHAT is it about gifted performers that turn them into self-destructive, tragic figures? Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse are still being “eulogized” by posthumous recordings (“Michael,” “Immortal” and “Lioness”), so the tragic fate of Whitney Houston—pop music’s troubled queen—casts an even gloomier cloud over a music industry in dire need of positive role models.
The sketchy circumstances of Whitney’s death are still being investigated, but her passing comes as a blow to fans and admirers who thought she was already comeback-bound.
For years, the 48-year-old pop diva struggled with substance abuse and a tumultuous marriage. But, by the time she released her anticipated album, “I Look To You” (which debuted at No. 1), in 2009, she declared herself drug-free.
Her return wasn’t as rosy as everyone hoped, however: The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak—and, in Whitney’s case, her five-octave voice just wasn’t “cooperating.”
Facility
After a series of cancelled shows and uneven performances, sadly immortalized on YouTube and various social networking sites, she again checked into a facility for drug and alcohol dependence in May last year.
Her Grammy appearance on Feb. 12 would have sustained (and beautifully capped off) her bid to regain lost ground—but, it wasn’t meant to be. What the audience saw, instead, was Jennifer Hudson earnestly singing “I Will Always Love You”—a moving musical tribute that only underscored the unique qualities that had set Houston apart from other talented belters. (The song is now No. 1 on the iTunes chart.)
In her prime, Whitney could effortlessly scale those stratospheric notes without sacrificing the gentle tones required by the tune’s romance-tinged lyrics. Her show-stopping “bombastic” renditions were appropriately cushioned by the soft notes and girlish coos that distinguished her earlier hits from other sensational songstresses’ attitude-heavy R&B and soul anthems.
The “other” Queens of Pop had perceptible limitations; she did not—she was as powerful with ballads as she was with dance. In contrast, Madonna and Janet Jackson found fame by initially focusing on dance music, while the similarly exceptional Mariah Carey is occasionally compromised nowadays by a low register that sounds like a breathy, shaky whisper. For her part, the vocally superior Celine Dion has been consistently dissed by critics for “lacking soul.”
But, herein lies a cautionary warning for singers: If you’ve been blessed with an exceptional voice, don’t just flaunt it—take good care of it, because it can succumb to wear and tear!
Only daughter
As we ponder on the music industry’s latest loss, our prayers go to Whitney’s only daughter, Bobbi Kristina Brown, who will turn 19 on March 4.
In her recent guesting on Anderson Cooper’s talk show, Janet Jackson offered comforting words for the distraught teenager: “At first, I didn’t want to accept it (Michael’s death)—but, you have to come to terms with it and offer it to God. Figure out a way to move on, because it can be devastating.”
Sassy voice
Ironically, Whitney’s untimely death may just jumpstart her daughter’s career as a singer and dancer. If you’ve seen the YouTube video of Bobbi singing an a cappella version of Adele’s “Someone Like You,” you know that she has what it takes to follow in her famous mom’s footsteps. Her knack for vocal improvisation is apparent—with a voice as full and sassy as her great aunt’s, Dionne Warwick.
In our review of Whitney’s “I Look To You” album on Sept. 19, 2009, we noted the change in the quality of her voice: The shifts were clean, but they were no longer as pristine, giving her an edgier sound. She had to work harder, and didn’t rely on mere technical expertise nor carefully calibrated renditions—it gave her a lot of lived-in soulfulness, and the “weary” quality and urgency in her singing gave her performance added gravitas.
Interestingly, in her autobiographical (and self-penned) track, “I Didn’t Know My Own Strength,” Whitney sang about how she had lost her soul in the midst of her woes: “I lost sight of my dreams…I had no way to turn, I had no way to go/ I thought I’d never make it through/ I crashed out and tumbled, but I didn’t crumble. I picked myself back up…I didn’t know my own strength/ I was not built to break!”