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'Educated Guess'
disappointing, confused
By Dave Frank
Collegian Reporter
Before her press packet
and new album Educated Guess arrived at the Collegian office,
all I really knew about Ani DiFranco was that she tended to
be a favorite fem-artist of the neo-folk, Lilith Fair-type girls
in the coffeehouse circuit. I don't believe I am alone in suspecting
her as a leading muse for many pinko-hemp-rope-sandal poetry
slams.
This makes sense, though.
DiFranco, even now,
on her 18th LP, is somewhere back in 1996 in terms of culture
and style-personally and musically. She belonged in an era of
earthy acoustic artists, hippie sanctity and ground-dragging
off-brown corduroys. These were also the last years for the
grunge/folk classic that replaced the fanny pack: the flannel
shirt around the waist, preferably red or brown.
Her style of music
has been described as "folk punk," but "art house
folk" would be more appropriate, negative connotation included.
Present are also the politics of the time for a decent-looking
bisexual woman. She pipes away for a grassroots movement that
seems to blur the distinction between sincere and sinister,
one that is anti-death penalty, pro-choice, pro-human rights
and pro-collectivism.
"We Have This,"
a sign of both the music and lyricism to come, is the message
conveyed across three sheets of paper in the liner notes, the
ethos of a presumptuous and adolescent social conscience, not
to mention a potato bag-colored flag of the silliness present
in the rest of her lyricism with cliché references to
abandonment, unexciting lesbianism and airy spirituality.
It is somewhat disappointing,
however, that DiFranco has created such an awful recording.
She has all the available qualities for success-a soulful voice,
skilled and creative guitar work and a personal message burning
a hole in her pocket. Further, she did all the work for the
album herself. She sang all vocals, played all instruments and
did all mixing and recording, all on an 8-track no less.
Why, then, the less
than pleasing disc? Well, first of all, melody is almost wholly
lacking from the recording. Sure, she moves her voice up and
down in semi-predictable patterns, but the note selection is
incoherent and poorly planned. Second, as I have mentioned before,
her lyrics and delivery are generally borrowed and recognizable
as such. Lastly, her guitar playing is unpleasant in whatever
it is trying to get at.
"Platforms,"
the first and only enjoyable track on the album, is a 17-second
spoken word number with a sly roots country Lucinda Williams-tinged
delivery.
The endearing poutiness
of DiFranco's voice is lost so badly in her disjointed and confused
percussion-style guitar picking on "Swim" that the
song ends up sounding like the combined voices of Nelly Furtado
and Eartha Kitt performing for World War II troops stationed
in Calcutta, i.e. it doesn't make any sense.
Several of the songs
are completely ruined by a stiff, bass line that sounds like
an overdone extended sound check.
"Rain Check"
is a decent but obviously folk singer take on Erykah Badu vocal
stylings.
What may be most problematic, however, are her aforementioned
lyrics.
On "Educated Guess,"
singing in a flux between a faux R&B persona and Sheryl
Crow karaoke bar, she says, "So school is in session get
your chin off your desk/ Now pick up your pencil and turn over
the test/ Use your education and take an educated guess about
me."
Though it features
some of the more digestible guitar work on the album, "Animal"
is a trite lament of consumerism which include the lines: "that
isolated geographic that's become infested with millionaires"
and "when you grow up surrounded by willful ignorance you
have to believe mercy has its own country".
"Grand Canyon"
is the worst and most boring example I've ever heard of fusion
artsy-fartsiness: one part stale and worn beat poetry take-off
and two parts stale and worn shellacked neo-feminism that includes
such lyrics as,
People, we are standing at ground zero
Yeah, it was an inside job stoic and sly
One we're supposed to forget and downplay and deny
But I think the time is nothing if not nigh
To let the truth out
Coolest f-word ever deserves a f-ing shout!
The last track, "Bubble," is what
would happen if Tori Amos and Soul Coughing had an ugly child.
Maybe some listeners may find artistic value
in beat poetry married to postmodern sounding dissonant tones
and offbeat rhythms. Maybe, but I doubt it.
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