Just for fun, if you’d like, Google “Top 50 Guitarists of All Time”. Or, just to make it more sporting, “Top 100”.
Go ahead. I’ll wait.
Notice anything? Anything missing? Or to be more precise, anyone missing?
On the four or five “Top 50” lists that I sampled, there was not one woman to be found. On the more expansive, “Top 100” selections, Joni Mitchell and Bonnie Raitt made appearances in the #75 and #89 spots, respectively, on one list only.
Um…rude.
I am in no way suggesting that those male artists do not deserve to be recognized for their immense talent. They should be on all sorts of “Top” lists. Many of them have a signature “sound” that is so intrinsically fused with my own personal “musical DNA” that I can’t imagine my life without it. However, is there a particular reason these lists are almost entirely ignoring the ladies? And just in case someone is considering dusting off the tired old, “women are underrepresented in rock music”, rationale as an explanation, is that really a valid excuse?
To be fair, if you want a “Top 50” or “Top 100” list that includes a Lita Ford or a Jennifer Batten, you can find them. You will just need to add the qualifier “Female” to your search, and it’s up to you to overlook the “Yes, they’re ok…for a girl” implication.
Here’s the other thing. By focusing on “Rock” as the primary genre through which to filter our comparisons and adorations, some truly extraordinary people tend to get overlooked.
Take Elizabeth Cotten. Born in 1893 near Chapel Hill, North Carolina, only one generation removed from slavery on her father’s side, she was the youngest of five children. When she was around eight years old, she would slip into her older brother’s room when he was at work, and experiment with his banjo, not allowing the minor inconvenience of being left-handed to get in the way of teaching herself to play – upside down.
When she was nine, she was forced to quit school and become a domestic worker, and by the time she was twelve she had a live-in job, earning a dollar a month. She managed to save up enough to buy a Sears and Roebuck guitar for $3.75 (around $130 today) which she named Stella.
In the mid-1940’s after a divorce and re-location to Washington D.C., and in an almost providential coincidence, she started working as a housekeeper for the Seegers. Yes, THE Seegers. One day, Elizabeth picked up one of the family guitars and started playing – and they were stunned. From that point on, largely due to their encouragement and support, Elizabeth pursued a career as a musician. Her “Cotten Picking” style would eventually influence artists as varied as Joan Baez and Jerry Garcia to Townes Van Zandt and Rhiannon Giddens.
Elizabeth Cotten wrote her most well known (and most often covered) song, “Freight Train”, when she was only 11 or 12, won a Grammy when she was 92, and died only two years later, leaving a musical legacy that deserves to be honored and remembered.
Someone else that deserves to be honored, remembered, and placed on every single “Top” list under the sun, is Maybelle Carter.
Just like Elizabeth Cotten, Maybelle Carter created her own unique sound, the “Carter Scratch”. I don’t know enough about music to explain this in technical terms, but essentially, she could play both the rhythm and melody simultaneously on the guitar, a feat that baffled many a highly skilled musician.
Ken Burns did a wonderful job of telling “Mother” Maybelle’s story in his 2019 “Country Music” documentary. In it you get a true sense of not only the scope of her talent, but the kindness, generosity, and graciousness that endeared her to everyone who knew her. My favorite story is the one about the Grand Ole Opry’s initial attempts to lure ‘Maybelle and the Carter Sisters’ (Maybelle’s three daughter’s Helen, Anita, and June) to Nashville.
By the late 1940’s Maybelle and the girls had found steady work at the KTWO radio station in Springfield, MO. In 1949, a young Chet Atkins joined the group and their popularity steadily rose until the Opry, the desperate dream, the Sweet Beulah Land of every Country music artist, came calling.
Except there was a catch. The invitation did not include Atkins, who was such an accomplished musician in his own right, that the Grand Ole Opry establishment worried if he were to bring his guitar to town, he would take work away from too many other people. They were afraid he would take over.
Maybelle flatly refused. If “they didn’t want Chester, they couldn’t have the rest of us”. She held her ground even after attempts by the Opry to sweeten the deal, and when they realized she would not budge, they finally gave in.
When Maybell and the Carter Sisters and Chet made their Opry debut in September 1950, “The roof,” June recalled, “came off that building.”
So, the next time you’re enjoying a scorching, filling liquefying, brain melting performance from one of the many contemporary female guitarists who could overcrowd any number of “Top” lists, it’s worth taking a minute to consider the almost unearthly talent and humble dignity of their musical forebearers who quietly and persistently paved the way for them.
