By: Renee Stock |
Tuesday July 18, 2006 |
Genrerock PublisherRighteous Babe Records External Links |
Ani DiFranco's 2002 Carnegie Hall concert transports us right back to those
shaky months after 9/11. Those shell-shocked months when most people weren't
sure what to say, or what was appropriate to say, or even if saying anything
was a good idea at all. But DiFranco is not most people. Seven months after
9/11 in New York City DiFranco starts off her set with "God's Country," a song
about a state trooper that isn't exactly flattering, although it isn't utterly
scathing either. Regardless, topically, it was a bold choice. Did she choose
it because she wanted to show her audience that she wasn't going to shy away
from the tough topics? Impossible to know for sure, but knowing DiFranco, it
is highly possible. Her next choice again was not about lost love or gained
love, but about America's uglier side. That deduction is not a reviewer's
analysis of the hidden meaning in the lyrics. Thankfully for those who didn't
fare too well in critical interpretation classes, DiFranco pretty much just
lays her meaning out on the table, naked and easy to understand. Take, for
instance, these lyrics from "Subdivision": "It's amazing the things that we
all learn to do/So we're lead by denial like lambs to the slaughter/Serving
empires of style and carbonated sugar water."
While the set list does include a few more personal songs like "Angry Anymore"
and "Lil Girls," she tends to stick with the more political or philosophical
songs that culminate with her spoken word poem "Self Evident." Her gasps,
inflections, vocal quality all end up sounding almost exactly like her guitar
and DiFranco's guitar sounds like no one else's, if you've heard her play then
you know you could pick out one of her songs out of a musical line-up in three
seconds. This solo acoustic show puts her distinctive guitar work front and
center, and it also puts her observations, criticisms and feelings front and
center as well. Sometimes they work, sometimes they feel a little too heavy
handed, but then again this is Ani DiFranco we're talking about. She is not a
woman known for hiding anything from her audience, least of all her personal
beliefs.
The recording truly captures a moment in American history, or should I say,
truly captures the moment's aftershocks-but is it a live recording that is
essential to everyone's music collection? It seems to me that the emotion, the
trepidation and the poetry, the things that make it stand out, are also the
things that make it hard to listen to. It is certainly not the record I would
recommend to someone who is new to DiFranco. In that case I would point them
directly to Living In Clip which is not only one of DiFranco's best
records, but one of the very few live recordings by any artist that is
essential in anyone's music collection.