ANN & NANCY WILSON

Anyone who knows me well has probably heard me sing the Ann Wilson/Mike Reno duet “Almost Paradise” at karaoke with my friend, Jen Bernard. While I’m an unapologetic fan of Loverboy, I’m an even bigger fan of Heart’s colossally talented front woman, Ann Wilson. What folks don’t realize is that performing this duet is actually my way of revisiting a pivotal moment of my youth.

In 1987, my friend Ruth Delatorre heard me singing along to a song from Heart’s self-titled comeback album, and made a passing comment that I “sound a lot like Ann Wilson.”

I should stop right here and clarify that I sound nothing like her. Where that woman has power and grit, I have a comparatively thin squeal marred by years of cigarette smoking.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, these words were permanently burned on my brain. This is significant because I can’t remember what I ate for lunch yesterday. I have an admittedly terrible memory, but I still recall vividly the moment that Ruth’s life-altering words changed the course of my life. “You sound a lot like Ann Wilson.” I’m convinced that those seven words, which Ruth probably doesn’t even remember uttering, fostered the glorious delusion that gave me the confidence to pursue music as a profession.

Ann Wilson was also one of the only female voices I heard on KGON, my dad’s radio station of choice when I was growing up. I heard Ann, Joan Jett and Pat Benatar – three women I still admire greatly – but the greatest of these was Ann. My dad loved rock music, and hearing a woman as powerful as Ann Wilson sandwiched between the Billy Joels and Lynyrd Skynyrds of that decade validated that there was a place for me in that world. Little did I know at the time that Ann and Nancy Wilson hailed from my corner of the world, a mere four hours from where I grew up.

Before their comeback in 1985 - which found them hiding behind black eyeliner, witchy wardrobes and huge hairdos - their style was youthful and current. Their talent was always at the forefront, but their natural beauty and effortless style certainly didn’t hurt: hair free of products and ornaments,  neutral color schemes, hands on hips, quiet confidence and posture that subtly conveyed, "We can hang with the big boys." I have yet to see a photo of these sisters from the 70s that seemed posed; every photo looks comfortable and candid, even when they graced the cover of Rolling Stone:

Nancy and Ann in Central Park. Leather vest? Check. Belted kimono? Check. Handheld tape recorder? Check.

Photographed by Life Magazine. Effortless beauty at its best.

Who needs outrageous stage antics and costumes when you have natural talent?

I don't mean to exclude the sublime Nancy Wilson. I'm just still a little heartbroken about her split with Cameron Crowe. It's just too soon for me to talk about it, I suppose.

The Wilson girls before they hit it big.