MELISSA ETHERIDGE BYLINE: David S. Rotenstein ©1994 D.S. Rotenstein The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette November 27, 1994

Talented. Witty. Vibrant. Intense. But, explains the guitarist-singer-songwriter, do not call her a folk-rocker or a lesbian
musician.

"That's just the world needing to categorize everything,'' Etheridge says from her Los Angeles home.

Yes, there is a lot of folk in her acoustic-based rock. And, she did leap from the closet in a very public way -- at Bill
Clinton's inauguration last year. But to look at her in terms of being just another folk-rocker or a 1990s incarnation of women's music legends Cris Williamson or Holly Near would be missing the real Melissa Etheridge.

"I know the pictures that folk rock artists sort of draws up and I know that when people would see me, a woman with a guitar, they would immediately go, 'oh, folk','' says Etheridge. "Just because of the picture that it paints, I think it's a wimpier
picture than what's really there.''

Despite all of the rumors regarding her private life, her sex life, that have surrounded Etheridge since her 1988 recording
debut, she remained publicly silent until last year. At the Triangle Ball, one of the Washington bashes held to celebrate
Clinton's inauguration, Etheridge leaped on stage, kissed kitschy cult figure Elvira and proudly announced that she had been a lesbian her entire life.

"I was ready to do it,'' recalls Etheridge. "I just didn't know how. I didn't know whether it was an article or TV show and
it just happened to be I was having a good time with some friends and just happened to be in front of a couple of thousand people and reporters.''

Etheridge, 33, hails from Leavenworth, Kan. She escaped her small town roots and struck out for the big city, landing first
in Boston and ultimately in Los Angeles. She rapidly established herself as a powerful guitarist and as a writer of songs with
lyrics drawn from an emotional wellspring of despair and broken relationships. Critics were quick to label her the queen of
gloom and doom rock and roll.

A close listening to the lyrics of Etheridge's songs reveals an almost uniform usage of gender neutral pronouns. She admits
that she always has had to carefully pick her words. But, as she notes, it was not necessarily to conceal her lesbianism.

"I had always felt just to be myself that I didn't ever want to limit my work and have it just be for lesbians,'' Etheridge
admits. "I never wanted that. I wanted to reach anyone -- men, women, anyone. For that matter, I wanted men to relate to it as much and I just kept it very personal.''

Intentionally maintaining a gender-neutral repertoire of original lyrics was not a compromise to become a popular musician. It was more of an artistic challenge that she sought out.

"If you listen to my first album, it's very personal. Because I had to say 'I' and 'you' it became very direct -- there are lines, even in my first album, there's lines like, 'I've got Delilah in my hair' and... stuff like that was sort of blurry but it was open to interpretation. And anybody was welcome and I find it to be a challenge, very creative and it made me work harder,''
Etheridge offers.

Etheridge has cut four LPs. Her latest, "Yes, I Am'' (Island), came out last year. And no, the title has nothing to do
with her sex life. She does concede, however, that each album is a snapshot of her life at a particular point in time. One song
from her 1992 LP, "Never Enough'' (Island) earned her a Grammy for Best Female Rock Performance.

"The material is still 'Etheridge Sees The World and Writes About It','' she says of her songs.

In March Etheridge plans a return to the studio to cut her fifth LP. Though the songs for the new effort are not yet written, Etheridge knows precisely the direction from which they will come.

"I'm getting a lot of influence, actually, from my past,'' Etheridge says. "I'm sort of looking back at things that I left, like my home town, and feelings and relationships I had there and I'm bringing it into now and I'm a bit more reflective I think.''

When she first started touring after the release in 1988 of her self-titled recording debut, Etheridge was quickly compared
to other female folkies known for strong lyrics backed-up by guitar work that surpassed the perfunctory plucking common in contemporary folk music. Janis Joplin and Bonnie Raitt were natural points of comparison.

"The passion of Joplin, I always appreciated and understood. And Bonnie is just a real honest musician. I like to think that's
what they're saying when they make a comparison,'' Etheridge reflects.

Etheridge dodges attempts to pigeonhole her music into one style or genre. "I always just say it's rock and roll and that it's personal music.''

She strives, though, to tailor each of her songs to be performed live. Intensely live.

"I don't have a set sound. I want to make good music. I want to make what sounds good. We always approach the songs the same way in the studio... we play as much as we can live because I think the song has to be able to be played live before I can really ever create it,'' she explains.

1994 has been a busy year for Etheridge. Late last summer she performed at the much hyped Woodstock reincarnation and she has remained active promoting AIDS organizations and has contributed to projects ranging from breast cancer awareness to performing at this year's Farm Aid concert.

"I think I'm just a person who has become more aware of the world around them,'' Etheridge says of her recent activism. "A
lot of it was the way I was feeling. A lot of it was what was going on in the world. A lot of it was my partner, Julie, who
told me to stop complaining and do something about it.''

Despite winning a Grammy and all the acclaim she has begun to acquire as talented musician, Etheridge also realizes that the
road ahead is bound to have a few potholes.

"I've had to learn some responsibility that comes with success and being in the public eye and I had to learn about
ego,'' she confesses. "It actually gets a little more fragile when you get up there because you get pumped-up enough and you
think, 'Oh, I've sold two million records,' and then I get left out of something and it -- your highs are higher and your lows
are going to be lower is kind of what I am talking about.''

How does Etheridge feel about all of the attention focused on her coming out? "I don't mind,'' she replies. "I'm of the mind that people, that just sex in general and sexuality... we need to loosen up about it just all in general. So yeah, it can be your business -- not your Business -- but it's something that I want you to know.''

And is it difficult for her to speak with strangers about things most people prefer to relegate to the privacy of their homes and families?

"That's a little awkward because it's personal and stuff and if I was just another person, not a performer, I wouldn't be
talking to strangers about this,'' Etheridge laments, but adds with a hearty laugh, "unless I was paying them.''