Somebody needs to let Lina Koutrakos know that when she sings, "I might be lightning in a bottle," the cork has been sprung. This tornado of a talent ignites a musical maelstrom with every fervent note she delivers, and somehow, she just keeps getting better at it.

An established fixture in New York's blues/rock scene, Koutrakos has been headlining quarterly at downtown live music sanctuary the Bottom Line for a couple years now, gradually relinquishing her persona as cradling earth mama for an authoritative turn as razor-sharp, rafter-raising rock virtuoso, down to her Heart-inspired leather and lace rig.

Show-opener "Here I Am" is quite the call to arms, with equally fiery "I Don't Wanna Be a Fool" baring the raw soul of someone who's been there and can't wait to tell you what they've learned. And yet even as she and her eight-piece, all-guy band knocked about with the intensity of a wrecking crew at her two March 29 shows, Koutrakos upheld an allegiance to the often-neglected fundamental elements of her craft. Without fail, her anthemic, sing-along choruses are wrapped around resolute melodies with honest depth, fronting such universal adult motifs as to have and have not, the inner strength of women, and the regales of mutually consenting seduction.

Despite the gleeful squall of electric guitars (Jean Pierre Perreaux) and kaleidoscopic keyboards (Tony Lauria), the finest moments in Koutrakos' 90-minute set rise from those interludes that are less raucous. The aching ballad "For Now," written and sung with gifted pianist Johnny Rodgers, is old-school country, clawing for Faith Hill and Tim McGraw to bring it to the masses. "Bury Me Deep," a steeple-spun spiritual Koutrakos wrote along a Carolina roadside -- and a signature of her show for many years -- remains a calling card for her appreciable versatility.

And the exotic and undulating "Matia Mou," written with drummer Dan Gross and acclaimed Turkish composer Ayhan Sahin, oozes with luxuriant sensuality, extending a restrained elegance that seldom works so well in a show that's primarily branded by its plugged-in gear. Clearly, Koutrakos is at liberty to choose whether her musical muse sweats or swoons, and she is a master at uniting two distinct styles under one hell of a resonant roof. Fire and ice have never been better bed partners.

-- Chuck Taylor, N.Y.

April 4, 2004, Sunday, Late Edition - Final

THE AGE OF DISSONANCE
The Sweet Smell of Failure by Bob Morris

Lina Koutrakos came to New York 15 years ago to be a singing sensation.

She's still working at it. "I'm so 'the real thing' that I still know I'll make it," she said.

In a way she has. And in a way she hasn't. One of her rock songs is under consideration for the opening ceremony of the Summer Olympics. She was a regular headliner at the Bottom Line when it was in business, sings at Fez downtown and just signed a publishing deal as a songwriter. Billboard has called her "a treasure." And The Village Voice asks, "Why isn't she a national name?"

Indeed, why isn't she, along with all the other worthy and talented singers around? Maybe instead of being really good at what she does, she should consider being really bad.

This week, William Hung, who distinguished himself by being a terrible singer and dancer on "American Idol" in January, will have his CD, "The True Idol" released. A documentary about him will be broadcast. Now featured at sports events and on network talk shows, this sunny, untalented civil engineering undergraduate from the University of California at Berkeley has become nothing short of an accidental superstar, the voice of shower-singers everywhere.

Sure, he might be popular because he's a joke and a much-needed underdog in the Darwinian dogfight of modern life. Perhaps he's a strike against the tyranny of glossy celebrity too. But when considering his rocket-rise, you have to wonder, is failure the new success?

Look at 50 Cent, the musical artist. He was a drug dealer new to the music business when he was famously shot nine times. He didn't just survive. The botched killing turned the felon and rapper manque into an instant legend. "It made me special," he says in April's Playboy. "And being shot in the face, my voice changed. And this is the voice that sells millions of records."

Michael Bergin, the "Baywatch" hunk, is upgrading his tepid acting career with a new memoir about his failed relationship and (as he alleges) tawdry extramarital affair with Carolyn Bessette Kennedy. Paris Hilton's national reputation and her reality show, "The Simple Life," skyrocketed in the ratings when her pornographic tape was uncovered. Meanwhile, the more cheaply that Nicole Richie, her sidekick, behaves in public, the higher her star rises.

Winona Ryder became a Marc Jacobs model after a shoplifting conviction. Both times that Sean Combs was arrested, it puffed up his career.

In fact, from the days of Stanford White (who dated a call girl) to Courtney Love (arrested last month), few things around here have improved the social standing of the prominent more than being photographed in a "perp walk." Never mind the velvet ropes. Handcuffs have the real cachet.

Well, maybe there's more truth to "The Producers" than we thought. To make big money, two schemers try to stage a big flop. When it actually succeeds, it totally destroys them.

"Where did we go right?" they wail in utter despair.

As Stephen Sondheim once wrote: "Success is like failure. It's how you perceive it."

But it's also how you work it. Spinning the dross of failure into the gold of success takes commitment, confidence and the same loose valve in the brain that makes comedians with failed magazines decide they want to produce Broadway musicals. Why put your head in the sand when you can put your notoriety into a book proposal? Use your spectacular, tabloid-headline failure to get an agent, and a leg up.

So maybe Lina Koutrakos needs a drubbing from critics, rather than more accolades. "When I started out, I planned on being the female Elvis Presley," she said. "Now I'm not even asking record producers for $100, just 10 cents. There's room for me too." She'll be singing her heart out at Joe's Pub at the end of the month.

Her favorite lyric? "None of us were meant to fail or slip through feeble fingers."

Maybe not, but if at first you don't succeed, try failing in a big way.

Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company

Name: Lina Koutrakos, Rock/Blues Singer

Q: What's your claim to Fame?
A: I wrote and produced Leave a Little Something my first CD.
Q: When did you know you wanted to sing?
A: The minute I could talk.
Q: What was the first job you ever had?
A: I bagged groceries at a military grocery store
Q: Past life?
A: A blues singer, I'm back to fulfill my destiny!
Q: What's the last book you read!
A: Actually, I just re-read To Kill A Mockingbird.
Q: Pet peeves?
A: That we continue to teach our daughters that they should worry more about their looks than their spirits.
Q: Who is your hero?
A: My dad. He's outspoken and lives his life with courage and dignity.
Q: What's your all-time favorite food?
A: Filet Béarnaise.
Q: Words to live by
A: "You're wrong" - to be said to anyone who tells you your dreams can't come true.
Q: What's your definition of success?
A: To do, in this lifetime, what you are intended to do, and have great friends to share it with.

66 MODE / SEPTEMBER 1998