You Say Imelda, I Say Evita

In order for David Byrne to write Here Lies Love, the song cycle about Philippine strongwoman Imelda Marcos, in the manner he has done, he had to be inhaling deeply from Evita, the opera crafted by Tim Rice about Argentine strongwoman Eva Peron. The similarities in form, structure, storytelling and song cues between the two works are seemingly beyond coincidence. Let's just say that Here Lies Love is operating under the influence of Evita.

Here Lies Love shadows Evita as the tale of a beautiful young girl from humble beginnings who marries a politician on the meteoric rise and is soon corrupted by the power entrusted to her. The companion character is Estrella Cumpas, the woman who raised Imelda to adulthood and was then silenced as an embarrassing reminder of early poverty. Cumpas has an ax to grind in the course of Here Lies Love, just as the cynical Che character in Evita. Eva does her utmost to deny the accusation of having been a whore and Imelda tries to flee the opprobrium of having been poor.

Is the story arc of every rags-to-riches dictatress sui generis? You see one power hungry, fashion savvy, man manipulating, iron fisted dangerous jade, you've seen them all? Tim Rice already spoofed this notion by having Eva disingenuously say, "My story's quite usual. Local girl makes good, weds famous man. I was smack in the right place at the perfect time. Filled a gap. I was lucky." Of course this is hogwash, as in the next breath Eva declares, "But one thing I'll say for me. No one else can fill it like I can."

It is not particularly surprising that Byrne never mentions Evita in the acknowledgments or prologue to Here Lies Love. What we don't know is whether his omission is deliberate or involuntary. Either his ego refuses to admit that he is standing on the shoulders of a giant or it's a situation like George Harrison not realizing how much "My Sweet Lord" was indebted to "He's So Fine."

Byrne explains his fascination, his inspirations and his research in a booklet that accompanies the CD and DVD release of Here Lies Love. He cannot bring himself to refer to the piece as an opera and he engages in a great deal of handwringing over the short attention span of today's audience. He writes, "As it is now incredibly easy to download just a single song off a new album release-or to rip just a couple of the most accessible songs-I, like many others, have wondered: How do we incentivize listeners to check out more of what we have recorded?" Byrne knows he is dealing with attention spans better suited to ring tones than Wagner's Ring cycle, so he won't admit that Here Lies Love may have operatic storytelling qualities. Evita had no such identity crisis. As far back as the original 1976 recording, the record jacket proudly declared, "An opera based on the life story of Eva Peron." This is how Byrne ridiculously agonizes over the issue: "Is it possible to have an experience of some added depth, as one sometimes does when listening to a series of songs? Is it possible to have a set of songs that play off one another, so that each one both informs and reflects some of the others? The more songs you hear in such a sequence, the more accumulated depth and information there is in each one. A character from an early song might reveal something new about themselves in a later one, but of course you'd never know that unless you heard them both. At least that's the idea. So how do we get that to happen?" Oh, for god sake, it's called opera. Go ahead and say it. It won't kill your career. Look what it did for Pete Townshend.

A comparison of the similarity of structure, storytelling and song cues between Here Lies Love and Evita helps to keep score and keep perspective.

• Evita opens with the death of Eva Peron and the "Requiem for Evita." The voice of Eva assesses her own passing: "Ride on my train oh my people, and when it's your turn to die you'll remember. They fired those cannons, sang lamentations, not just for Eva. For Argentina. Not just for Eva. For everybody." Here Lies Love also opens with Imelda contemplating her own mortality in the title song: "Is it a sin to love too much? Is it a sin to care? I do it all for you. How can it be unfair? I know that when my number's up, when I am called by God above, don't have my name inscribed into the stone, just say: Here lies love."

• Following the Evita template, there is a flashback to Imelda's youth in the town of Tacloban, a setting similar to Eva's humble Junin. The song "Every Drop of Rain" explains that the family of her father's first wife occupied the main middle class house and they shunned the family of the second wife, forcing Imelda, her siblings and her protector, Estrella Cumpas, to live in the leaky garage. Eva experienced a similar upbringing, resulting in similar resentments: "Screw the middle classes. I will never accept them. And they will never deny me anything again. My father's other family were middle class. And we were kept out of sight, hidden from view at his funeral."

• Imelda's beauty earns her the nickname "Rose of Tacloban," but she is not without thorns when she sings, "The heart grows slightly colder. Necessary to survive. And money makes it easy in many people's lives." This is much like Eva's admonishment: "They're hoping their lover will help them or keep them, support them, promote them. Don't blame them, you're the same."

• Imelda makes her way to the big city of Manila, capitalizing on opportunities with men. It is the similar progression to Buenos Aires outlined in Evita's clever song, "Goodnight and Thank You."

• In a chance encounter, Imelda catches the eye of the ambitious young senator, Ferdinand Marcos. He sings "A Perfect Hand," (his only song) which functions like "The Art of the Possible" and "I'd Be Surprisingly Good For You" from Evita. Ferdinand: "Who's holding aces and who's gonna fold and who's got a secret and who's feeling bold? It's a winning combination, if a lady understands, that the King and the Queen of Hearts could be a perfect hand." Juan: "One always claims mistakes were planned. When risk is slight, one takes one's stand. With much slight of hand."

• As Imelda's fortune ascends, she casts aside Estrella Cumpas as an inconvenient reminder of hardscrabble roots. Cumpas gets only a glimpse of Imelda's wedding in the song "When She Passed By," which serves a comparable function as Che's song "High Flying Adored" in Evita. Cumpas watches Imelda's motorcade whiz by and sings, "Did you see me outside? Did you see me wave? [Note: This very line is an echo of another Tim Rice lyric from Jesus Christ Superstar.] When you passed in your car? Ah well, that's okay. How she looked when she passed by. Feel like I'm watching history living before my eyes. Many years from now we'll recall just how she looked when she passed by."

• Imelda gets frantically groomed for the world stage in "Walk Like a Woman," reminiscent of Eva's preparation in the song "Rainbow High."

• Imelda becomes the indispensable public face of Ferdinand's presidential campaign when she addresses the crowds at political rallies with the stirring song "Don't You Agree?" She sings, "Sometimes we need a hero. Can't make it on our own. Sometimes you need a strongman when things are out of control. Don't you agree? Agree with me? Don't you agree?" The purpose of the song is entirely parallel to "A New Argentina," in which Eva sings, "There is only one man who can lead any workers' regime. He lives for your problems, he shares your ideals and your dream. He supports you for he loves you. Understands you, is one of you."

• After winning the election in the Philippines, Imelda sets out to fulfill many of the Marcos campaign promises by raising money for social services in the song "Pretty Face." "A thousand miles of concrete, schools and dams and parks. Two thousand day care centers and a center for the arts. And we'll show the world what a country girl can change. And we'll show the whole wide world that we have a pretty face. Some would call me Robin Hood, but this work we do I know is good. So dig a little deeper now. We're gonna turn this thing around." Just like the song "And the Money Kept Rolling In" from Evita, the point is to show how these women spent on infrastructure more for personal gain than for public good. "And the money kept rolling in from every side. Eva's pretty hands reached out and they reached wide. Now you may feel it should have been a voluntary cause. But that's not the point my friends. When the money keeps rolling in you don't ask how. Think of all the people gonna see some good times now."

• Imelda tosses out Ferdinand's mistress in "Men Will Do Anything," which recalls the prologue to "Another Suitcase in Another Hall" from Evita.

• Imelda becomes a global ambassador in "Please Don't" and equates the reputation of the Philippines to her own personal arc. "Please don't! Don't let them look down on us. Please don't! Like they used to do to me." The attitude is borrowed from Evita's "Rainbow Tour," in which Eva visits Europe and sees Argentine popularity as a product of her personal charisma. "There you are I told you so. Makes no difference where we go. The whole world over, just the same. You should have heard them call our name. And who would underestimate the actress now?"

• When Imelda tries to silence Estrella Cumpas from speaking publicly about their poor upbringing in "Solano Avenue," Estrella wants nothing more to do with her. "So take back all your money. Although I need it more than you. Just acknowledge that you knew me on Solano Avenue." This is reminiscent of Che's disillusionment with Eva's forsaking of the workers' cause in "Waltz for Eva and Che." "Tell me before I waltz out of your life, before turning my back on the past. Forgive my impertinent behavior, but how long do you think this pantomime can last?"

• Here Lies Love ends with the song, "Why Don't You Love Me?" which is a peevish version of Evita's "You Must Love Me."

These similarities are noted in terms of song placement and plot function, not style. The pervading musical format in Here Lies Love, which is co-written by David Byrne and Fatboy Slim, is all disco all the time. While this is by definition limiting and rather monotonous, it can be argued that it is appropriate to the era, to Imelda's penchant for disco parties and is, after all, kind of hilarious. However, it is not the same thing as a poet choosing to work in, say, iambic pentameter and the composers have handcuffed themselves stylistically somewhat.

In the current CD release of Here Lies Love, a total of 12 different women sing the part of Imelda and 7 different women sing the part of Estrella. With so many different voices playing the same roles, it becomes hard to get a handle on these two characters. Obviously this is great for marketing when Natalie Merchant and Cyndi Lauper and Tori Amos each record individual tracks. It also plays to that dreaded and voracious short attention span which quickly tires of one singer throughout. Besides, one lead singer could smack too much of [shudder] opera.

It must be noted that one of the funniest songs in the cycle is "The Whole Man," which is Imelda's harebrained theory on the order of the universe and is apparently based on her actual lectures and accompanying simplistic diagrams. It is sung by Kate Pierson and as a result, sounds exactly like a vintage B-52's song.

On the other hand, one of the worst songs is "American Troglodyte" sung by Byrne. It sounds more like a Talking Heads song than anything else in this cycle, however it seems to fail every which way. Byrne should get a refund on his rhyming dictionary. Is there one true rhyme? Is he even trying? There are so many wonderful opportunities, but every one is a clunker: sexy jeans/technology; modern art/gigantic cars; exercise/troglodytes; basketball/rock and roll; outer space/real estate; simple life/Friday nights; Broadway shows/Holy Ghost; discotheques/income tax. Not even close. This song is supposed to be about the pervasiveness of American pop culture, especially during the Vietnam War, when the U.S. was using the Philippines as a major military staging area. In the context of Here Lies Love, "American Troglodyte" takes place during the late 1960s or early 1970s, and yet Byrne writes, "Americans are surfin' that Internet. Americans are listenin' to 50 Cent." Not only does this couplet fail to rhyme, it fails to make sense. Internet surfing was an unknown phenomenon until the 1990s. 50 Cent wasn't born until 1975 and didn't hit anyone's radar until about 1997. These are distracting anachronisms and the storytelling veracity of the whole work can be called into question with this one track.

Here Lies Love is an ambitious attempt at creative history in a style that should be encouraged and supported. Biographies set to music, whether they are called song cycles, musicals or operas, have a proven tradition of success. This particular story unfolding in this particular way, however, has a touch of déjà vu to it. You say Imelda, I say Evita.