I’ve been a fan of singer/songwriter Amy Rigby ever since I gave her debut album, Diary of a Mod Housewife, a spin in my CD player. Instead of being an untouchable diva, Rigby proved to be a relatable every woman. She sang about marriage, the workplace, breakups, and childrearing. Songs like “The Good Girls,.”20 Questions,” and “That Tone of Voice” slipped into my bloodstream and became part of my DNA. What can I say? I’m a fan.
Being a fabulous storyteller via her songs, I figured Rigby would be a fabulous storyteller when it came to her life. And after reading Rigby’s memoir Girl to City, I’m 100% correct!
Before Amy Rigby became songstress extraordinaire, she was Amelia McMahon, the only daughter of an Irish-Italian American family. She grew up in Pittsburgh, a place she felt was neither glamorous or exciting.
Young Rigby’s escape was music and a way of escaping the dreariness of Pittsburgh. A huge fan of Elton John when she was a teenager, Rigby later discovered punk. And through early admission to study art at Parson’s, she hightailed it out of Pittsburgh and ended up in Manhattan.
Rigby thrived at Parson’s and it wasn’t long before she discovered the music scene, spending rock and roll nights at iconic places CBGB’s, Max’s Kansas City, and the Bowery. She saw bands and artists like the Ramones, Patti Smith, Blondie, and the Talking Heads. And instead of just listening to music and going to shows, Rigby wanted to be on stage.
It wasn’t long before Rigby started a band with her brother, Michael, and a bunch of friends called The Last Roundup. They couldn’t quite play their instruments, but being on stage was electric. Rigby just knew she had found her place in the world of music.
After The Last Roundup ended, Rigby formed The Shams. By this time, Rigby and her bandmates were much more fine-tuned and The Shams found some modest success. They even opened up for the band Urge Overkill.
But The Shams never quite reached the rock and roll stratosphere of platinum albums and sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. Rigby spent a lot of time in the trenches of 9 to 5 working a lot of temp jobs so she could pay the bills. But the dreariness of the office wasn’t for nothing; it inspired her to write a lot of great songs.
Rigby also had deal with a lot on the home front. She married dB’s drummer, Will Rigby, and together they were raising a daughter named Hazel. Life was a jumble of set lists and shopping lists, guitar cases and diaper bags. Often her bandmates would act as de facto nannies to wee Hazel.
Sadly, Rigby’s marriage to Will didn’t survive, which she writes about with brutal honesty. But her and Will’s devotion to their daughter remains steadfast and true.
It was the topsy-turvy world of domesticity that also inspired Rigby’s songwriting. Nothing was too mundane for Rigby to write a song about. But soon it was time for Rigby to go solo, which gave us the stellar Diary of a Mod Housewife. Rigby spends quite a lot of pages describing what it was like to record this album, and it’s an eye-opener.
Rigby is brutally honest about the various aspects of her life including spending time in England with a man she calls “The Manager” to her mother’s horrific car crash. She’s truthful about her Catholic guilt and her troublesome skin.
Girl to City is a tremendous read. Rigby writes with exquisite detail and clarity, which makes you feel you are experiencing every moment of her life. You really get an idea of a New York City that doesn’t really exist, a gritty Manhattan and a Williamsburg in Brooklyn before it became a hipster haven.
Girl to City isn’t just a memoir; it is a truthful and touching tale of one woman’s struggles, triumphs, and need to express her unique voice.
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