whitney houston, 1963-2012
Like so many last evening, I found myself saddened and a bit stunned by news of Whitney Houston’s death at age 48.
There are deaths and there are tragedies. When an artist that so convincingly exuded a purity and freshness in her singing and overall performance charm spends much of the last half of her career in a downward spiral that leads to death at a shamefully young age, the result is, without question, a tragedy.
For the sake of disclosure, I will admit to never having been the biggest Houston fan in the world over the years. But that was strictly a measure of preference and taste, not artistic criticism. In was hard not to appreciate the affirmative effect Houston’s hits of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s had upon an entire pop generation. Particularly impressive was 1992′s I’m Every Woman, a strong, empowering blast of vocal might that also managed to pay overdue reverence to pop-soul predecessor Chaka Khan (the singer who first popularized the Ashford & Simpson song in 1978).
I reviewed a Houston concert in 1987, during a wildly active Rupp Arena concert fall that also included performances by U2, David Bowie, Rod Stewart and AC/DC (boy, are those days gone forever). Audience reaction was wildly mixed, as Houston performed in-the-round on a bare stage with her band situated below and around her. The main audience gripe was that the concert wasn’t more of a “show.” Apparently, possessing one of the more impressive sets of vocal pipes of the day wasn’t enough. Thousands in the crowd seemed to expect something akin to the presentational dance pop that her music videos of the day approximated. Houston was classier – and simpler – than that. Their loss.
Who knows what sparked the personal and professional collapse of the past two decades? Was it the A Star is Born syndrome reborn? Was it simple celebrity excess? Was it the tabloid marriage? That’s a tale for others to unravel. For now, let’s remember Houston simply as a radiant, uplifting pop presence rightly boasting to the world that she was, indeed, every woman.



I am a native Kentuckian and freelance journalist who has been writing about contemporary music for the Lexington Herald-Leader since 1980. I have not a lick of honest musical talent myself, just a pair of appreciative ears for jazz, folk, blues, bluegrass, Americana, soul, Celtic, Cajun, chamber, worldbeat, nearly every form of rock 'n' roll imaginable and, when pressed, the occasional tango and polka.