The Lilith Fair: How music industry sexism inspired the highest-grossing festival of the 1990s
The 1990s was a pivotal decade for feminism. Amid the fight for greater equality and justice, several revolutionary industry-specific occurrences emerged that witnessed women coming out on top, even if improvement was still merely a mirage on the horizon. Still, with various steps forward adorning both the film and music worlds, women’s voices were not only being heard but also being listened to.
Understanding the sudden value that was being placed on women’s voices in the late 1990s and the emergence of the Lilith Fair is best understood when starting with the impact of the riot grrrl movement. In many ways, Bikini Kill leader Kathleen Hanna was not just a feminist pioneer but a true hero who always made it her mission to call out toxic behaviour, no matter the cost.
Starting as a spoken-word poet and rallying against the many normalised aspects of misogynistic culture, Hanna soon transitioned her craft into the world of music, simultaneously supercharging a movement that would reinstate the anarchic nature of feminist ideologies for many years to come. Without Hanna’s input and the many other creatives who drove the movement forward, many nuances that later graced the music industry wouldn’t have happened.
Over the coming years, the music industry enjoyed significant changes, with more female artists and voices becoming valued in an industry that long held them at a disadvantage. However, the groundwork was there to establish several improvements, but industry sexism still lurked far and wide, not just in the still-normalised characteristics of abusive culture but in the general language of society, too.
For instance, in many corners of the world, female artists still weren’t given as much radio play as their male counterparts. The issue that we still endure today when it comes to festivals and a lack of female artists in line-ups was in full swing. Many women in the industry felt fatigued by the constant battle but unwilling to give up with a vision that, one day, equality would not only be present everywhere but as easy as breathing.
Many musicians sought to address the gender gaps in the late 1990s, like the many pop and rock artists who challenged gender expectations with their broader presence, writing about authentic female-specific experiences while adopting aesthetics that didn’t satisfy the male gaze. Many women had occupied these shoes before, but many were also brushed with a tokenised stroke and seen as exceptions rather than the norm.
In other cases, women who exhibited acts of defiance were ostracised from the mainstream or villainised by those in greater positions of power. For instance, when Sinéad O’Connor tore up a picture of the pope on live television in 1992, she was made a laughing stock, while others—Joe Pesci— platformed the various acts of violence they would take against her should she ever cross their path.
Observing this issue first-hand, Canadian musician Sarah McLachlan knew that more could be done. In 1996, the musician had grown so intensely disillusioned with the state of the industry and its consistent silencing of genuine female talent that she sprung into action. Her main gripe was that radio stations refrained from playing two female musicians in a row and most festivals lacked diversity, so she toured with Paula Cole and named one of their shows ‘Lilith Fair’, which comprised a female-only lineup.
The following year, McLachlan teamed up with Dan Fraser and Terry Bride and launched the official Lilith Fair, maintaining a female-only lineup of artists and bands. The name itself held an impassioned anarchic edge after McLachlan was influenced by the Lilith in Jewish lore, who disobeys her husband Adam by refusing to submit to his demands.
As a result of the message and talent, the Fair was an immense success and grossed over $16 million, making it the highest-grossing tour of the 1990s. In addition, McLachlan and her team utilised the benefit to raise $10 million for charity over its peak years. The rollout was an impressive affair, with coveted names on the bill like Fiona Apple, Brandi Carlile, Colbie Caillat, Emmylou Harris, Heart, Sheryl Crow, Mary J. Blige, Kate Nash, Marina and the Diamonds, and more.
Despite its success, however, attempts to revive the festival in 2010 fell flat. Not only did they encounter financial issues, but planned performers Carly Simon, Norah Jones, the Go-Gos and others dropped out, worried that they wouldn’t be appropriately compensated for their involvement. That said, although it didn’t soar into the 2010s, it’s clear that the necessity for such an initiative hasn’t changed, not one bit.
Around the same time as the collapse of the 2010 iteration, discourse surrounding the Lilith Fair criticised its relevance. Some even accused McLachlan of trying to money-grab. However, it’s clear that the need for such ideas is still at an all-time high, and that the collapse of Lilith Fair was strictly money-related. As she explained to NPR at the time: “Lilith is not about ticket sales, it’s about the experience of Lilith—about artists getting together to make this world a better place.”
No other festival like Lilith existed then, nor does it exist on the same scale now. Because of McLachlan’s vision, more female performers were platformed than ever, and while a lot has changed since 1997 and 2010, we are still in a crucial time for female representation in the music industry. So-called “radicalised” initiatives might be seen as dated or extreme for some, but ultimately, they hold more importance than ever, with a nucleus as ready for battle as the flames that defined the Riot Grrrl movement.
