\Rediscovering
Brenda Bennett
by Jeremy Gloff



The moment I laid my eleven year old eyes on her I
was transfixed. At first she was just a musical acquaintance. I
met her songs through a friend of a friend of a friend's songs.
But the instant I heard the voice that matched the look I knew,
instantly, this was a woman whose songs would matter the rest of my
life.
My young mind was preoccupied with music. Upon discovering Prince
it was like falling into an extravagant and gallant world. In his
music, on his album covers, and in his videos, Prince had created a
persona and a universe that was sexy, intellectual, fun, and
thought-provoking. As a kid I probably learned a lot more from
Prince than most of my teachers.
The further you dove into Prince’s world the more there was to
discover. Albums by his proteges expanded the universe. The
Time’s records were a place that I hung out with the sleek and
the debonair. Within Sheila E’s albums I rubbed elbows
with kings, jesters, and the likes of Michaelangelo. My ears and
mind formed an especially strong kinship with Jill Jones - her
powerhouse voice dripping with romance, rebellion, and unbridled
free-spirit. For me, the electricity conjured by
Prince’s proteges eventually eclipsed his own music.
Alongside Jill Jones, there was one other persona that especially
captured my imagination. She rarely sang lead, but her voice was
unmistakable. In photographs she stood slightly in the background
- but the strength of her pipes and her persona made her unforgettable.
Her name was Brenda Bennett.
At eleven years old I purchased the Apollonia 6 album as a
completist. I wanted everything Prince related, and an album by
his girl-group was sure to be a good time. I already loved
Apollonia and “Sex Shooter” from watching Purple
Rain. As the needle hit the wax I knew I was in for a treat.
I was right. The Apollonia 6 album was chock-full of great hooks,
campy lyrics, and wall-to-wall memorable songs. The more I
listened to the album, the more I loved each cut. Apollonia
fronted the group - but on her left was Susan - the nubile, innocent
beauty queen with a teddy bear. Brenda Bennett stood to the right
of Apollonia on the album cover.
Whereas Apollonia played the front-woman and Susan
played the ebony Lolita, Brenda played the hard-luck, cigarette smoking
tough girl. With her short-cropped 1980s perm and pink negligees,
Brenda was the girl who beat your ass the second you looked at her the
wrong way in the biker bar. On the album cover art, in the
songs, and in the videos, Brenda Bennett was the embodiment of
“don’t fuck with me”.
What made Apollonia 6 (and the original incarnation of the group,
Vanity 6) intriguing were the songs themselves. Perhaps it was
Prince who actually wrote the songs and performed all the
instruments. Disregard that and you are entranced by the
personality each of the girls brought to their respective leads.
Susan was wispy and monotone - her songs predating the electro crazy by
two decades. Apollonia (and Vanity) were coy, flirty, and
effective front women. The glue that solidified the group was
Brenda. When Brenda Bennett stepped up to the mic the raw and
explosive power of her voice both underlined her character and freed
her from it. A thousand bands in the 1980s had a woman playing
the no-nonsense chick. What made Brenda stand apart is the fact
that her voice was as strong as her look. In her vocals you could
hear the vulnerability and the eight thousand emotions that run through
anyone’s mind and heart - tough or not. Perhaps at the end
of the night Brenda was kicking in a guy’s headlights - and maybe
she wasn’t going home and crying about it. Still, you could
hear the disappointment and depth in her emotive vocals. Perhaps
“Blue Limousine”, “(I Love You) A Million
Miles” and “Some Kinda Lover” aren’t the songs
that the mass public will remember from the Prince camp. But for
people in the know, those songs are milestones.
One particular moment sums up the power of Brenda Bennett. On the lush and cottony Vanity 6 album cover "3x2=6", Vanity carries the song was a girlish and coy lead. During the bridge, Brenda’s voice enters the mix - majestic and powerful. The song climaxes with Vanity cooing the line “unless of course, in another life, U were a man.” As the word “man” is sung, Brenda Bennett kicks in with one of the most powerhouse notes in music, at any time, ever. The song closes out with Brenda’s harmony singlehandedly turning the song from a throw-away to a balls-out anthem. Throughout the entire Vanity 6 album it is Brenda’s harmonies that underscore the songs. While her one lead “Bite The Beat” may be her weakest performance, her sassy monologue on “If A Girl Answers (Don’t Hang Up)” was memorized and recited by pop fans globally. A line like “I will take my underwear and stick it in your mouth and you’d love ‘em cause you got no taste” would be campy out of anyone’s mouth. Handled by Brenda Bennett, the song is a home-run.

Following the Apollonia 6 album, Brenda Bennett
seemingly disappeared. The 80s closed out without Brenda.
During the 1990s not one peep was made. I spent the first decade
of the 2000s seeking out Brenda on the internet. All of my
searches turned up empty handed. The more I searched the more I
discovered that Brenda Bennett had her own cult of followers. A
lot of things came and went in the 1980s - but something about Brenda
really captured our imaginations.
Finally, a couple years ago I was turned on to a You Tube video by the
Ken Lyon Tombstone Blues Band that featured an all-grown up Brenda
singing back up vocals. There she was. The camisole was
gone and replaced by more conservative garb. Surrounded by two
other female singers (much like Apollonia/Vanity 6) Brenda provided the
back-ups to a song called “Shaky Ground”. I watched
the clip thirty times and then some. Prince-fans feverishly
shared the clip with each other. She might look different, but
the voice and the spunk were unmistakable. Brenda lived.
Discovering her maiden name, Brenda Mosher, I hoped to then be able to
track her down online through the Ken Lyon connection. No
luck. Although she’d resurfaced online, Brenda remained as
much an enigma as ever.
As life would have it, I ended up becoming friends with Jill Jones - who used to sing with Brenda. During our long chats I asked for some insight into the Brenda behind the voice. Jill too was unsure of where Brenda was today.
So I spent my morning a few weeks ago habitually
opening and answering emails. The mundane and routine task of
negotiating through my inbox starts all my days. One particular
email was accusatory.
“Why haven’t you reviewed Brenda Bennett’s album on
Amazon yet Jeremy Gloff?!?!”
And that woke me from my morning daze. Faster than coffee ever
has. Quicker than Red Bull ever would.
WHAT? A NEW ALBUM BY BRENDA BENNETT?
My hands were literally shaking as I typed Brenda’s name into
Google. Within moments I was on a CDBaby page in front of an
album called A CAPELLA. My adrenaline raced as I clicked the
first sound file. Was this really the same Brenda? The
millisecond that voice issued from my laptop I knew that, indeed, this
was the same Brenda.

The sound clips instantaneously blew me away.
Here was that voice doing what it was always made to do. Sing
country-tingled blues songs about real living. Real
emotions. In her lingerie Brenda once played the character of a
hard-luck tough girl. In her new songs, Brenda stopped playing
the character and sang about a tough and glorious life. All of
the truths hinted at in Brenda’s vintage leads had finally come
to fruition.
Strangely, one of the last times I’d been this excited about new
music was when something similar happened listening to Jill
Jones’ 2001 release TWO. Hearing these beloved 1980s voices
in new, adult, and brutally honest musical contexts absolutely blows my
mind.
Brenda Bennett’s A CAPELLA is every bit the masterpiece that the
VANITY 6 and APOLLONIA 6 albums were. Oddly, Brenda’s
transition from 1980s Minneapolis pop to timeless roots songwriting
feels surprisingly natural. With her voice always as the
centerpiece, it is only the instrumentation and the passing of years
that separates the material.
A CAPELLA opens with the “Say Love” - a breezy
Eagles-shaded country-rocker. Brenda carries the song sounding
timeless and wise. The chorus kicks in with a sincere jubilation.
“Follow Me”, the album’s first single, is a standard
blues-rocker. In the video, Brenda is adorned with (I believe)
the same back-up singers at the Ken Lyon video. It is clear both
in the video and the vocal performance that Brenda is having the time
of her life.
Track three, “Child Of Light” is a 6/8 Celtic swirl.
Majestic, gorgeous. When Brenda hits her upper register
it’s heavenly.
“Burden Of Desire”, the fourth track on A CAPELLA, finds
Brenda tapping into her sensual side. A bluesier, more grown up
“Some Kind Of Lover” - this track finds Brenda growling and
alluring as only she can.
“Cry Me A River” - a reverb-laden meditation on friendship
and disappointment is simply an ethereal knockout. In this track
Brenda’s pledge of allegiance to “easy your troubled
mind” is heartfelt and true.
It is with track number six that A CAPELLA, and Brenda Bennett reach
their artistic zenith. “Jemmima” opens with a simple
acoustic guitar figure. Quickly joined by an eerie electric lead,
the song whisks you off your feet. All of the tough luck, hard
living, and emotionality once hinted at by Brenda’s 1980s persona
comes to full bloom this track. At once knowing, sorrowful,
hopeful, wise, hurt, and healing, the wisdom of this song
singlehandedly elevates Brenda Bennett to a higher caliber - just when
you didn’t think it was possible. Sounding musically like a
ghost from an early 1970s Fleetwood Mac album, “Jemmima” is
a career highlight and masterpiece.
Following the intensity of “Jemmima” is the quiet and
subdued “I Wait For You”. On this cut Brenda sounds
romantic and solidified.
Track eight, “Out Of My Mind” find Bennett address the
death of her brother. Sounding like an ancient
country-and-western tune, “Out Of My Mind” is
spiritual and knowing. I can’t express how thankful I am
Brenda shook off her dusty and rusty guitar to write these songs.
“Shattered Dreams” is an acoustic and voice number.
At one point towards the middle Brenda sounds straight off of Joni
Mitchell’s FOR THE ROSES, taking advantage of that surprising
higher register.

The album closes with the grooving “Sidewalk
Messiah”. Throughout the album Brenda peppers in references
to her faith in God. Myself, not being religious, didn’t
find this distracting. If anything, it only added to the truth
and sincerity of the record. It’s a true testament to the
importance of expression through music when all belief systems are
transcended by song. Believe or not, the truths about life, love,
and living in A CAPELLA are undeniable.
It’s been almost thirty years since we’ve heard from Brenda
Bennett. Let’s hope it doesn’t take that long to hear
from her again. So far 2011/2012 is shaping up to be quite
wonderful. I recently met Apollonia at Jill Jones' wedding, and a
new album from Brenda just came into my life. Susan, can you hear
us?
Although she might not be as well known as Aretha Franklin, Ella
Fitzgerald, or Janis Joplin, Brenda Bennett plays in the same
league. Her voice, her words, and her legacy are one of a kind -
whether she’s singing to a Prince-penned track, or singing A
CAPELLA.