| 6/18/2004 | ||
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Alanis Morisette | Visit Alanis' Website |
| So-Called Chaos | ||
| Rating: 2/5 | ||
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I personally feel that Alanis doesn’t get enough credit. I stand by my adulation for the girl even if she often makes it difficult to take her side sometimes. Sure, many could easily dismiss her as a more middle-of-the-road replica of Ani DiFranco, and it’s hard to argue that criticism. But there’s something about her confessional, idiosyncratic approach to lyric writing that reads and sounds more like unabridged notebook journal entries. Her deep breaths before each choral exhale are escorted by a bizarre bend of the final note sung, which makes her intonations quite distinctive and unusual. She may be repetitive and thanks to being an MTV staple, most folks have written her off, but there is never a shred of doubt that he she possesses assertion in what she brings to the table and there is no mistaking the catharsis that often ensues. Take her ambitious second effort, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. Yes, Alanis needed an editor to trim down the track listing, but it is simply a tremendous showcase of her remarkable capacity for cunning wordplay and delectable testimonials about spirituality and self-conflicts. There is no mistaking the fact that sometimes her didactic prose is best left for the diary vault, but at its pinnacle, that particular record remains audacious and revealing in a way that many female artists would only hint at. She’s still no Ani DiFranco, but on songs like “That Would Be Good” or “Joining You” she is able to somehow integrate pop conventions with originality and lyrics that even the most jaded listener could identify with. Alanis undoubtedly has a tendency to be heavy-handed in her approach, sometimes leaving the listener without any afterthoughts simply because sings about too much in an unambiguous manner.
It’s sad to report that she’s not really reaching beyond the surface with her latest effort, So-Called Chaos. If you’re expecting sonic chaos or experimental production techniques, delete that anticipation immediately. The sound is anything but chaotic or even remotely challenging unlike her predecessors. It’s more relaxed and sedated than anything she’s ever done, often sounding too digestible. Even her past record, 2002’s Under Rug Swept, had some audacity, and contains her most heartbreaking song to date, “That Particular Time.” Here it’s just more of the same ole same ole which should please hardcore fans, but it sounds as if she’s regressing back to being radio friendly instead of striving more emotionally engaging material. Instead of trying to get back touch with the radio, she should be looking more inward and presenting herself in a way that can drop jaws again. She’s playing it safe in other words, and it leaves the listener expecting more. So-Called Chaos is mostly a missed opportunity to build on some of the strengths represented in her last two records, and will undoubtedly bring her detractors to the forefront with fingers waving and disparagements abound. Still, it has a few fleeting moments. “This Grudge” is a bittersweet ballad about autonomy and determination to set things straight. “Eight Easy Steps” is a tacky but catchy number about self-help gurus. The first single “Everything” is a better example of Alanis’ strengths as a self-instructive lyricist, pondering her doubts and the perceptions of others that surround her. It’s also the most risky tune in terms of production and transition. It stands out as some of her strongest material, but that’s only the first single, and sadly, the last track on an album that needed expansion unlike Junkie which could’ve used some trimming. More often than not, her choruses sound forced, unnatural, and more akin to the likes of the reinvented Liz Phair. Sure, Alanis continues to be wholesome, expressive, honest, and exemplifies some of the better qualities that pop music has to offer, but you wish she would scream instead of sing because every song floats by, and sounds more like a murmur. Perhaps Alanis should have done a cover of “Not Angry Anymore" by Ani DiFranco, because she sounds at peace with just about everything. Good for her, but it doesn’t always make for a compelling listen. She’s capable of a lion’s roar, and once she learns to get past the cookie-cutter pop rock realm of production, then perhaps we can welcome her back. Until then, give the girl a break. It sounds like she may need one. | ||
