Alix Olson is an internationally touring folk poe… Read Full Bio ↴from alixolson.com
Alix Olson is an internationally touring folk poet and progressive queer artist-activist. One part peace vigil, one part protest rally, and one part joyful raucous concert, Alix ignites audiences everywhere she performs. Olson's innumerable stage, broadcast, radio and print appearances include, most recently, twice headlining HBO's "Def Poetry Jam" (Russell Simmons), and an inclusion in Utne Magazine's InRadio compilation. Utne's website calls Olson "...the spoken word diva everyone's talking about."
Alix has graced the cover of Ms. Magazine, who called Olson a "road-poet-on-a-mission," and her work has been featured in Girlfriends Magazine, The Advocate, OUT Magazine, Curve, Lesbian Review of Books, and on the covers of Lambda Book Report, Lavender Lens, and Velvet Park magazines. A recent interview with Olson for The Progressive calls her a "word warrior" and gives a comprehensive peek into just what makes her work so compelling. Alix has appeared on the nationally syndicated Air America's "Unfiltered" radio (co-hosts Rachel Maddow, Rachel Winstead, and Chuck D), as well as on Oxygen television, CNN, HBO, In the Life, and WXPN's World Cafe with David Dye, and local radio stations around the country.
Alix was voted "Best Activist", along with MoveOn, in Venus Magazine's Hott List 2004. Olson was voted 2004 OutMusician of the Year (OutMusic), and was a triple nominee for the 2002 OUTMusic Awards. In June 2003, Alix (along with Margaret Cho and Nobuko Oyabu) received the "Visionary Award" from the DC Rape Crisis Center for her "exceptional commitment to the promotion of social justice." Past honorees include Gloria Steinem, Tori Amos, Patricia Ireland and Sarah Jones. Olson has also received a New York Foundation for the Arts fellowship, and a Barbara Deming grant.
Howard Zinn (historian/activist) calls Alix "an ingenious poet, a brilliant performer, a funny person, a serious thinker. Quite simply, extraordinary."
Alix tours over two-hundred days a year, and has headlined national conferences for the National Organization for Women, GenderPac, and the Lesbian Summit. Most recently, Alix performed for one million people at the Washington, D.C. March for Women's Lives. She has headlined international poetry festivals in Portugal, the Netherlands, and England, and will be touring Australia in January.
Of her live performances, The Progressive Magazine calls Alix "an electrifying performer who seduces the audience with wit and energy, spinning tales of life on the road between her fiery poems. A sharpshooter with theatrical flair, Olson oozes both love and rage."
Above all, Alix Olson is undaunted by being labeled as "controversial." "I think any artist who confronts the status quo will be targeted as 'controversial'. We will also be called 'angry,' 'aggressive,' 'loud,' or at best, 'idealistic,' so that we are discounted, backed into a corner, and our power is deflated. But I have never been intimidated by words, because they've always been on my side."
Criminal
Alix Olson Lyrics
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In the big green police chair
With a big green light cornering my soul.
They said:
You tell us who's the boogey man, ma'am
You point out the Criminal.
And they tell me they can tell I'm a
First-class, top-notch, jury-duty, law-abiding
So, I flash my big, bright smile, I say:
Well, I'm glad that's what you think.
And they hand me a box of composites
Stacked in some kind of alphabetical caste
Where last names don't seem to matter,
Goes from A to Black to Blacker.
But I'm a model-citizen and
Model-citizens don't cause kinks.
Yes, I'm a model-citizen
So I sit my top-notch ass down to think.
In the morning paper, they say:
Those spam-eating spics
Are out to scam your family.
Yeah, they'll rob your job,
Soak up the last three drops in this
Trickle down, down,
Down-under country.
Well, while big-business takes its little piggies
To market
By keeping us dependent,
The morning paper says:
The Criminal's
The Immigrant.
And on the four o'clock pop-rock talk show, Joe says:
Yeah, a dyke is easy to spot.
She looks like a man, talks like a man, acts like a man, Yeah
But she's sure as hell not.
And all the other guests say:
Yeah, Joe, I think she's out to get your woman.
And by five o'clock, all the other Joe's in America know
The Criminal's
The Lesbian
And on the TV News, it's:
Poor Black Women (colon) The Expert Opinion
And all these white male scholars saying:
Well, she shouldn't have a baby if she can't feed him.
But she shouldn't have an abortion either,
She should just know better.
You see, knowledge is power
Yeah, but power is money and
Money's what matters.
And in the New York Times,
It's handcuffed protestors in Seattle
And the headline reads:
Angry Activists Start a Battle
And the World Bank Leaders and the WTO
And Disney and Visa and Mansanto
And Goodyear and Texaco
All smile and say:
Sure is nice to own the paper on a day like today!
So, I'm sitting in the big, green police chair
With a big, green light cornering my soul.
They say:
You tell us who's the boogey man, ma'am
You point out the criminal
So I finger the composites stacked in my hand,
I flash my big, bright model-citizen smile.
I say:
I'm sorry Sir.
But the criminal
Ain't in this pile.
In Alix Olson's song Criminal, the singer is being interrogated by the police in a big green chair with a big green light, pressured to identify who the "Criminal" is. Despite being a "model-citizen," she is handed a box of composites with names ranging from "A to Black to Blacker." Reflecting on the morning newspaper, she expresses frustration with the way the media portrays immigrants as the source of all problems. The singer moves on to talk about the four o'clock pop-rock talk show, where the hosts make fun of queer individuals and lesbians. Following this is a reference to news coverage portraying poor black women as incapable of caring for their own children. The singer talks about the media's control over information as multiple large corporations smile at owning the papers. In the end, the singer refuses to point out the criminal, stating "The criminal ain't in this pile."
Line by Line Meaning
They sat me down
In the big green police chair
With a big green light cornering my soul.
The singer was interrogated while sitting in a Chair, which had a green light making her uncomfortable.
They said:
You tell us who's the boogey man, ma'am
You point out the Criminal.
The interrogator asked the singer to identify the criminal.
And they tell me they can tell I'm a
First-class, top-notch, jury-duty, law-abiding
Kind of chick.
The singer was told that she is a law-abiding citizen.
So, I flash my big, bright smile, I say:
Well, I'm glad that's what you think.
The artist responded politely to the interrogator.
And they hand me a box of composites
Stacked in some kind of alphabetical caste
Where last names don't seem to matter,
Goes from A to Black to Blacker.
The interrogator handed a box filled with composites, ordered alphabetically without considering the last names.
But I'm a model-citizen and
Model-citizens don't cause kinks.
Yes, I'm a model-citizen
So I sit my top-notch ass down to think.
The singer considers herself a model-citizen and thinks about the situation.
In the morning paper, they say:
Those spam-eating spics
Are out to scam your family.
The newspaper was attacking a certain culture for being scammers.
Well, while big-business takes its little piggies
To market
By keeping us dependent,
The morning paper says:
The Criminal's
The Immigrant.
The newspaper was lying about immigrants because big businessmen had control over it.
And on the four o'clock pop-rock talk show, Joe says:
Yeah, a dyke is easy to spot.
She looks like a man, talks like a man, acts like a man, Yeah
But she's sure as hell not.
A talk show host spoke ill of lesbians and their appearance on a TV show.
And in the New York Times,
It's handcuffed protestors in Seattle
And the headline reads:
Angry Activists Start a Battle
Newspapers showcase the protests and activists as criminals.
So, I'm sitting in the big, green police chair
With a big, green light cornering my soul.
The singer expresses her unease when sitting in the chair with the green light on.
They say:
You tell us who's the boogey man, ma'am
You point out the criminal
The interrogator presses the artist to give out the name of the criminal.
So I finger the composites stacked in my hand,
I flash my big, bright model-citizen smile.
The singer uses a stack of papers to show that the 'criminal' isn't just one person.
I say:
I'm sorry Sir.
But the criminal
Ain't in this pile.
The singer tells the interrogator that what they are asking is not in the stack of papers.
Contributed by Blake V. Suggest a correction in the comments below.