Animal, the diminutive, percussive half of invectively inventive music/poetry/performance art duo Bitch and Animal, is a sexually outspoken, socially confrontational and visually eccentric artist, one who's doubtlessly endured more prejudice, harassment and outright hate than a guy like me ever will. Still, she seems to give her fellow humans far more credit and leeway than the average, unassuming cynic. She credits her partner in crime, classically trained violinist Bitch, with showing her that people will respond to courtesy and open-mindedness in kind.
"I still look the same way, in fact my hair is even crazier, but I've noticed that I'm not harassed as much. And I think it's because I assume I'll be treated with respect."
She adds with a laugh, "Now that's not to say there won't be that one hooligan …"
The two met in acting school in Chicago eight years ago and shared a dissatisfaction with following the scripts of others. Their act, with its funky, enlightening mix of spoken word and bizarre coffeehouse eclecticism, came about several years later, for a one-off performance at a Michigan women's festival.
They've been gigging ever since; their early recordings and reputation for wild shows attracted the attention of one Ani DiFranco, who invited the pair to tour with her and eventually signed them to her Righteous Babe label, co-producing a portion of their latest disc, Eternally Hard. It's a strange, sometimes wonderful and often hilarious album, from the satirical sex-playa rap of "Best Cock on the Block" to "Ganja," a pro-marijuana church hymn.
As funny and offbeat as Eternally Hard gets, however, the message of individual rights and identity pride firmly ground every song in sociocultural criticism. While a cynic might describe B&A's material as too obtuse or underground to convey its message to the masses, Animal, the surprise optimist, differs.
"I would love the world to hear (our) Pussy Manifesto, but it doesn't need to be more accessible — if people could get it into their hands, they'd get into it," she says. "That's what I think."
There's just one problem, however.
"The thing that always surprises me is, our record is almost always banned. When we go to do college radio interviews, almost every track is crossed off. So many guys are singing about their dicks," she laughs, "why is it different because we're women?"
Music critic Scott Harrell can be reached at 813-248-8888, ext. 109, or e-mail him at scott.harrell@weeklyplanet.com.
This article appears in Oct 2-8, 2002.