Local singer cracks Zak’s top-five list

For John Cusack’s character in “High Fidelity,” making “top five” music lists isn’t so much a… For John Cusack’s character in “High Fidelity,” making “top five” music lists isn’t so much a pastime as it is a way of life. I’m a list man myself.

As I’m driving about aimlessly at 1:30 a.m. and composing various top five lists, I realize that no female artists have made it into my top five anything (excepting, of course, something like “Top Five Female Recording Artists of All Time”).

I’m not sure how to feel about this. It’s not that I have anything against women singing or playing instruments – or even doing both at the same time. In fact, I’ve always felt that a good female vocalist brings to a song a level of intimacy I never feel while listening to a man sing.

Thanks to this new awareness of my borderline misogynist album collection, there’s a little caution coating my flagrantly casual interview style today. I have once again braved the Pitt dorms, and I’m in the room of singer/songwriter Erin Dragan.

Dragan shares her cell with a roommate whose chair I borrow. Dragan sits at her own desk/shelf that’s forced to bear the weight of her textbooks, DVDs, computer and lovely collection of teas.

We begin the whole awkward introductory “what, how long and why” bit. Just as we start to get into a more productive – and tangential – part of the conversation, Dragan’s roommate’s computer, which is right behind me, moos. It moos. Apparently this young lady’s AOL Instant Messenger settings generate cow noises at various times.

After I recover from the silicon cow’s contribution, Dragan does an excellent job of pulling the conversation back on track. She’s been playing guitar for eight and a half years. She’s been writing songs and poetry for quite awhile. She’s a massive Fleetwood Mac fan. She was in a band until recently, but they broke up when Dragan was offered a chance to record a solo album. Dragan recorded the album, but for a variety of reasons, it wasn’t picked up by a label.

“Moo” interjects from the computer behind me.

Dragan leaves her desk and grabs a beautiful acoustic guitar with a built-in tuner. She props some reddish pillow sort of thing up against her bed/dresser, sits down and proceeds to play “Dust In the Wind.” Her melodious and heartfelt cover banishes my fear that deep down I just don’t dig female musicians.

Next, she moves on to one of her own songs. I tense up a little as she explains that the song is about not really fitting in with some girls when she was younger. My fear returns. As she begins finger-picking chords, I dread the emergence of my innate lyrical snobbery. It’s harsh and unfair to lay on one girl the responsibility of absolving me of being a musical sexist, but it’s too late to turn back now.

Dragan’s song pleasantly balances lyrics and melody, evoking images without overreaching or seeming painfully elementary. It was a good song, and after a few more words I left after warning her that I’d be sending an e-mail that’d ask all the questions the cow noises made me forget.

In her reply, Dragan goes into what it’s like for her to perform.

“At a lot of shows, especially at what you would call ‘real venues’ where they bring in a lot of live local music, people are pretty quick to judge me. They look at my frame and then the guitar, see that it’s as big as me, and go ‘aww how cute.'”

“But,” she adds, “when they see my hands pluck the string, fingerstyle, in the tradition of Lindsey Buckingham, and really sing from my inner soul, their mouths gape.”

Catch Erin Dragan at the Quiet Storm in Garfield on April 7 at 9 p.m. and check her out online at www.myspace.com/erindraganmusic. E-mail your top five reasons for being on Zak Sharif’s local stage to rzs8@pitt.edu.