Jeff Davis | Vent Section Manager

3/08/02

"Nü metal," as many media have been referring to Slipknot, Puddle of Mudd, System of a Down and the like, has become marketable to a younger demographic that identifies with shattered childhoods of sugar-coated Saturday mornings while the parents fought upstairs, emptiness in suburbia and confronting peer pressure the second you walk into the high school lobby. All kinds of people listen to this music but it would seem that not all kinds of voices are being heard. Since 1995, Canadian songstress Alanis Morissette has recorded anger on many fronts but most importantly from the vantage point of a scarred and surviving woman. "Jagged Little Pill," released in '95 after two Canadian bubble-gum pop efforts tanked in America, established Morissette as a herald for every woman who's ever tried then tried again. On her latest Maverick release, "Under Rug Swept," the 27-year-old is more refined but no less vital.

Morissette is hardly without her contemporaries. Heather Nova, Jewel, Fiona Apple, and the critically acclaimed Tori Amos have all sung similar ballads but Morissette's songs have their own brushstrokes. Her albums from '95 on up progress as she grows as a young woman. "And are you thinkin' of me when you f*** her" from "You Oughta Know" has now turned into "you're essentially an employee / and I like you having to depend on me" on the third track and first major single, "Hands Clean." She's still pushing the same muses out of her soul yet the words they've given her sing the praises of a woman changed. Her lyrics have always been less furtive than that of Amos, for instance and girls everywhere will raise their fists in hurrahs, instantly saying to their friends, "Damn, do I ever know where she's coming from."

The album flows differently than those produced under Glen Ballard, who has collaborated with Aerosmith, Van Halen and Michael Jackson. "Under Rug Swept" melds urban street beats with jumpy guitar--as does a lot of music today but this album does so in a way that doesn't lend itself to the used CD racks three weeks after release. Simply put, this is a rock album, uncharted territory for many young women in music. She managed to heist bassist Flea (Red Hot Chili Peppers) for "Narcissus" and Dean DeLeo (Stone Temple Pilots) for guitar on the opener and "Precious Illusions." Just like "JLP," you can crank this and perhaps head bang a little.

I'd get your neck limber before you pop the disc in. Morissette scuttles her fingers across the frets in the first few seconds of "21 Things I Want in a Lover," a track that calls back the stripped-down melodies of "Right Through You." The album coaxes into "Narcissus," a quirky yet delightful tirade against really stupid men. Guys, don't deny it. We aren't always the sharpest knives in the drawer and sometimes we'll stir even the ire of a sweet-faced brunette--who incidentally portrayed God in Kevin Smith's "Dogma." The album is not without its softer tracks. I won't give away any more, though. This release flies in the face of her more disposable comrades who seem more preoccupied with dancing and singing about soft drinks and can only seem to profess liberty with flopping breasts.

If Morissette endorsed anything, it'd likely be nectar and ambrosia if this album is any indication. She's angry yet self-controlled on an album that goes to show you'll be faced with the same stuff on different days but that doesn't mean you can't learn from it more and more. That goes for us guys, too.