The New Liz Phair
By B
Grade: A for Effort
This is a very untimely review because the new Liz Phair album, along with the new Liz Phair the person, came out a whole year ago. You have probably heard her first single, Complicated, about a trillion times by now, especially if you go to see a lot of movies starring Mandy Moore or the Olsen Twins. Also if you spend a lot of time perusing the aisles at Duane Reade, where it seems to be the only song on the shopping soundtrack.
Anyway, timely or not, I am going to review the new Liz Phair now because I saw her in real life last night, at the kickoff party for the Maybelline Cosmetics CHICKS WITH ATTITUDE TOUR. (The name gives you a basic idea of exactly what kind of a party this was.) Of course, I was late to the affair, so I missed Liz’s actual performance, which must have consisted of about two songs. Despite the over-ness of the show, she was still milling around on the stage when I arrived and I got to see her outfit, which is all I really cared about anyway.
Here is one nice thing I can say about the New Liz Phair. She is hot. Especially considering that she is a woman of a certain age. And she has taken to dressing like a total hooker, which I can completely respect. If I were a lady I would always dress like that, no matter how busted I was—and LP is definitely the total opposite of busted. I feel bad for her child, though, because between his mother’s so-short-she-needs-two-haircuts leather skirts and her song lyrics, ("I’m looking great and I’m feeling nice! Baby you’re the best magazine advice! Give me your hot white cum! Give me your hot white cum!") he will probably have mommy issues for his entire life.
The Maybelline party was fine. I was a little disappointed that I missed the performance, but I’m sure she just sang Complicated anyway, which I certainly didn’t need to hear again. The drinks were free and I was in very good company, so I ended up having fun. Because of the sponsor, there were cosmetics strewn about like candy at a Halloween party. Emily, are you a Maybelline fan? I hope so, because I have a little present for you! Tomorrow you are going to be so lashful!
I am pretty conflicted about the new Liz Phair. Obviously, her new(ish) album is terrible by virtue of being offensively, aggressively boring-- except for a few shining moments when it is just plain retarded. The retardation I don’t blame so much on Liz herself, because the really bad songs were co-written by the computer program that made up April Lavin, and I’m sure that lyrics like "Oh baby I know what you’re like! You’re like my favorite underpants!" are just some kind of computer error and are not Ms. Phair’s fault at all. Maybe there was some kind of snafu where the wires got crossed between the LP album and the Hanes Her Way commercial. But still. The boringness part is definitely Liz’s fault and that is really sad.
The album sounds a lot like Sheryl Crow lite, which is pretty pathetic because I always considered Sheryl Crow to be a more haggard, more facelifted, less talented version of Liz Phair. Guess what, though? I totally love that song about the first cut is the deepest when Sheryl Crow is galloping a magnificent steed around the desert. I wonder if the new Liz Phair would suck less if there were more equestrian activity in the video. I think maybe yes. I can say that I am genuinely moved every time I see the video for Simply the Best by Tina Turner, because, shit, she is riding that horse on the fucking moon! That is what I call awesome. Also, not to get off the subject here, but what about that Sisters With Voices video for I Get Weak, in which I think the ladies of SWV are grooming a horse. And they are indeed wearing those jodhpurs and everything, like real horse girls. Yes! I love that song and I’m going to learn how to play it on the guitar when I finish typing this. Emily, get ready for a performance when you come home.
If this review were being graded by my ninth grade English teacher, Ms. Caplan, I would get an F because I don’t think SWV has anything to do with my "topic sentence," regardless of the equestrian gear. So, Ms. Caplan, here is why the new Liz Phair has me sad. It is not because she sold out, because a lady needs to make her living. It is not because of the Dianne Warren caliber production values, because I am actually sort of a fan of that type of thing. It is not because of Ms. Phair’s completely insane letter to the New York Times. (And PS, talk about things with no "topic sentence!") It is because the new Liz Phair has me thinking about the nature of talent and it seems to be bad news.
The song Shatter, off of Exile in Guyville, makes me cry every time. Every time. Also, you know Fuck and Run gets me because of the whole slut issue. Liz Phair is talented. She just is. She is smart and funny and weird and also really really hot. I don’t think she has lost her talent, or even given up, exactly.
But what if good writing exists only in some magical intersection between talent and experience? I am thinking that maybe talent is like a penis. It has length and width. In Ms. P’s case, I think it is very, very long, but narrow as a pencil. She is incredibly, dazzlingly good at capturing the essence of being a bored, stoned 22 year-old who still lives with her parents and fucks a lot of dummies in rock and roll bands. Unfortunately, you can’t write about that when you are a 35 year-old mom who lives in LA and drives an Escalade. Maybe there is nothing you can do about it. When your narrow talent ceases to match the specifics of your life, maybe you have no choice but to get the April Lavine machine to program crappy underwear jingles on your behalf.
People like John Updike are lucky, because his special skill is writing about being a bitter, adulterous old man, and that can last you for a good twenty years. In other words, his talent penis has a little more girth to it-- even if he is a pathetic, gayhating fool. Poor Liz. She’s just trying to make do. And I am in no position to hate on her. What will I do when I can no longer write about 17 year-old Ritalin fiends with eating disorders and bad dye-jobs? I am already getting a little old for that kind of thing. Maybe Courtney Love has the right idea: take a lot of Oxycontin and refuse to change your disgraceful lifestyle, even if it means that little Frances Bean gets confiscated by the authorities all the time. Liz Phair doesn’t seem willing to go that route, and God bless her for it. In interviews, she has pretty much admitted to sucking because she had to stop smoking marijuana after the birth of her child. That is just how it goes.
Liz, you made a couple brilliant albums. No one can take that away from you. Now go out and shake your sweet, ass for all it is worth.