We hear who these girls, these young women are, who they become behind that mic. Voice big, authoritative, divining sure devotion, dejection, and longing. The joy cuts through the rawness. Some of these women, that is all we know of them; all we know is their voice. Not a name. Were they a group, a fantasy, did they go on to other glory, were they receptionists in the studio or some cousin from around the way? That's what fascinates me about these Beehive girls, what I imagine most. What was this moment to them, this minute or three we hear them on here. For some we know it was a transformative moment, a first, this space and place, this point in time where they reached out for something with their big voice and the world met them. For some of them it was sheer ambition, others it took goading, others we encounter here at a moment that feels like the dawning of an obvious fate before they swept up the charts or became a voice we would hear sampled for decades. So did because they liked to sing with their friends. You could do it anywhere. We claim and reclaim these girls post-facto; in 2018 an awakened reconciliation for these talents, talents that were considered interchangeable to the point of disposability then, is progress. We read the stories again and again of names not even being right and try to root them out and, better still, know them. Even here, we have mystery girls, their identities lost to history (Will they ever hear their voices? What would it be to find yourself here decades later?) Often the only verifiable truth of the thing is the tape; the only history is what's audible, what they conjure in those notes. What these girls gave in situations where there was no credit, little or no money, a finite chance. What they gave so fully are their voices and their talents, claiming this chance to harmonize along with their sisters, cousins, friends, classmates. To give it everything despite knowing what would likely elude them: credited by name, a chance to pursue opportunity with the same doggedness as the men in their backing band, dynamic material that reflected their lived experiences, the ability to make music the substance of their lives, their hope. Is that not the very definition of true artistry? To abandon the outcome and sing the song for the sheer sake of giving life to the thing? They sing because it's all they can do.