Eternally Electric: The Message in My Music
Debbie Gibson
Gallery Books
For less-than-ardent observers, it might be easy to dismiss Debbie Gibson as merely another disposable “Vanilli”-flavored byproduct of the shamelessly kitschy 1980s. However, for more fervent followers, the prolific singer-songwriter is one of the G.O.A.T.s. And in her electrifying, just-released memoir, Eternally Electric, the pop music icon shares her personal rollercoaster story with candor, wit, and humility. As her longtime friend and music colleague Joey McIntyre maintains in his foreword, “You think you know (Deb), but you have no idea.” McIntyre goes on to confess, “I’ve seen Debbie Gibson naked.” Hmm. Better buckle up, Buttercup. This ride might get a bit bumpy.
Even as a longtime, deep-dive admirer of Gibson’s work, my expectations for Eternally Electric were realistically low. Truth be told, I was fully prepared to be fed a “Twinkie.” You know, one of those marshmallow-filled tell-alls designed solely to further inspire the worship of celebs. However, to quote Mr. McIntyre, I “had no idea” what was coming.
Simply put, Eternally Electric is a spectacular piece of work. Straight away, the story crafting is world-class, as Gibson and co-author Richard Buskin embrace the tried-and-true memoir formula: a compelling foreword, followed by an alluring introduction, that flows into a cozy backstory, before firing fully on all cylinders.
By most accounts, the Gibsons were a typical all-American family. Patriarch Joe and matriarch Diane created a loving home for their four daughters, an environment that nurtured an appreciation for the arts. But what separated the Gibsons from the other families in their Merrick, New York, neighborhood during the shag-carpeted 1970s was that daughter #3, Deborah, would soon emerge as an undeniable local talent — a prodigy who would later stir a global sensation.
Gibson’s early passion for acting led to an uncredited cameo in the 1984 blockbuster film Ghostbusters, as well as several commercials and a slew of roles in local theatre productions. Targeted as something of a “square peg,” she would take ribbings from less cultured elementary school classmates for wearing her favorite button that read, “I Love Opera.”
Mom / manager Diane’s business savvy and tenacious table-pounding tactics would lead Gibson to a major label record deal while she was still in high school. Her intoxicating, youthful songs combined with an irresistible, girl-next-door image soon had Gibson soaring to dizzying heights in the music world, scoring #1 singles, platinum-selling albums, and sold-out concert tours at a time when most of her peers were making prom plans. And although much of Gibson’s massive ’80s success story is well-known to even those less-than-ardent observers, her engaging conversational “fly-on-the-wall” anecdotes keep the pages of Eternally Electric turnin’ away!
Gibson ratchets along the rails at a safe speed through the ’80s; however, she throttles into overdrive around the 1990 mark. From there, the story not only tops 100 mph, but the narrative also starts to go sideways, as Gibson grapples with success, suddenly slumping stats, record label battles, an unrelenting schedule, splintered relationships, physical breakdowns, bouts of crippling anxiety, and criminal-caliber stalkers. “I spent a lot of money on therapy to stay ‘normal’,” Gibson confesses. Cue Mr. McIntyre once again, “You think you know (Deb), but you have no idea.”
Following her unimaginable run in the ’80s, Gibson would arrive at a place of reinvention in the ’90s, landing acting roles in such Broadway and touring productions as Les Misérables, Beauty and the Beast, and Cabaret, as well as in the London production of Grease. But weekly “theatre” money ain’t constant “rock star” money. And after some lean years and a few professional missteps, Gibson found herself in such financial dire straits in the early 2000s that she was forced to accept a $5,000 loan from boy band heartthrob Lance Bass, delivered on the down low, in cash, by a Bass assistant in a paper sack.
Along the way, readers are introduced to a seemingly endless procession of Gibson’s love interests, grown men whom she only refers to as “boys.” Hmm. Some eyes may also roll as the 55-year-old Gibson constantly refers to her closest compadres as “besties” and “BFFs.” Like OMG, Ashley! Like that’s TOTALLY cray-cray! Juvenile jargon aside, Gibson shares her very mature stories like a bona fide big girl, including revelations of being virtually incapacitated at times by various viruses and autoimmune sicknesses — harrowing accounts, to be sure, from America’s sweetheart.
As the roller coaster slows to a stop and the safety bar is released, Gibson comes full circle. Now taking care of herself (mind, body, and soul), she’s walking in the light and embracing her best and brightest relationships. Once again achieving chart success with new music and re-establishing herself as an in-demand touring act, Gibson proves that anything is possible. She continues not only to survive, but to thrive as an artist who truly is “eternally electric.”
