Liz Phair - Liz Phair

Ms. Phair has built a career on equal parts clever rock and lyrical shock, ever since tracks like "Fuck and Run" off her classic 90s debut Exile From Guyville. However, the swarm of controversy surrounding her latest, effort didn't have anything to do with the content (despite the best efforts of "Hot White Cum"). Liz Phair is an almost complete re-invetion, and certainly a re-introduction. It's been many years since Liz' alternative nation heyday, and she comes out the gate trading the cred of her lo-fi sound on indie label Matador for Capitol Records' big budget gloss - courtesy of ProTools and Avril-abbetting songwriters The Matrix - in a bid for mainstream success before hitting middle age. Instantly, old fans and rock critics (of which there was MUCH overlap, belive me) were sharpening their axes, declaring Liz Phair an "abomination" at best, and a "career-ending album" at worst; however, Phair asserts that it WASN'T a calculated appeal to a new generation of teen-pop fans, but a natural artistic progress. They're both right. The disc is a truly mixed bag. When it succeeds, both on the strengths of the Matrix' pop chops as well as a small-yet-still-permeable supply of Liz' own indie spark, the songs are some of the catchiest and most enjoyable I've heard in quite a while. The Liz Phair of old is evident in fine form on "Hot White Cum" and the touching, finely-crafted "Little Digger." As far as the new-school material is concerned, "Extraordinary" and "Why Can't I?" are filled with undeniable hooks that linger for days, and do a brilliant job of bringing a rockier edge to the mainstream pop single; "Why Can't I?" in particular benefits from Liz' actual (ie - NOT overprocessed and pitch-corrected, Britney-style) voice on the chorus, filling the catchy chorus with a degree of genuine longing and emotion not seen on most top-40 hits. However, when Liz Phair fails (as it too often does), the tragically excessive studio trickery, and glaringly dumbed down lyrics almost justify the initial rage surrounding the LP (on an album about maturity, she actually sings about "playing XBox" - WTF?!) Track after mediocre track frustrate with an annoyingly bright polish. In spite of it's shortcomings, however, you can't deny Liz Phair's charm - even when it's buried beneath layers of mainstream sludge. Hopefully, the next album will allow us all to write this off as the growing pains of a simple pre-mid-life crisis. [www.lizphair.com]