april 1. 2005 ’ jUSt OUt 35
MUSIC
Knuckle Down
Am DiFranco • Righteous Babe
he crazy'prolific Ani DiFranco appears to
be finished trying to convince the world
she’s an invincible one-woman island.
Instead, she’s re-embracing collaboration and
hunkering down to the task of making mesmer
izing music out of her ever-present misery.
“I am a powerful Amazon warrior, not some
sniveling girl,” Ani proclaimed on last year’s
Educated Guess, of which she wrote, sang,
played and pnxiuced every note. The recently
released Knuckle Down finds her surrounded by
a stellar supporting cast of musicians and aided
for the first time in her career by a producer,
fellow musician and Madonna brother-in-law
Joe Henry.
Though she’d never admit it, maybe Ani
just needed a little help from her friends. Her
past couple of years included a divorce and the
death of her father, events she alludes to on
Knuckle Down with characteristically clever
wordplay. “ ’Course neither of us were wearing
helmets, and our blood was just everywhere” is
her clear-eyed postmortem of a ruined relation
ship on the spare funk of “Modulation,” despite
later conceding that her ex was “better than
any drug.” The gently percolating “Sunday
Morning” details domestic bliss, only to uncer
emoniously pull the rug out from under us in
the last verse. “Manhole,” an open-wound raw
meditation on infidelity, has Ani playing emo
tional MacGyver: “After my dreaded behead
ing, I tied that sucker back on with a string.”
Musically, Knuckle Down runs the gamut,
from the familiar staccato folk of the title track
to the clattering, Tom Waits-y blues of the sex-
T
Mood
swings
Their loss is our gain
year-old married mother, maybe Tori’s just not
that pissed off or messed up anymore.
The Beekeeper continues in the easier-
I listening vein of 2OO2’s gorgeous travelogue
Scarlet’s Walk. “Parasol” is a stunning opener
by J im T hompson
on par with 1991’s “Crucify,” and the sultry
“Sweet the Sting” could heat up the iciest of
bedrooms. “The Power of Orange Knickers” is
The Beekeeper
ually playful, metaphor-heavy “Seeing Eye
bewitching but underutilizes guest vocalist
Dog” to the sprawling, spooky, intruder-in-the-
Tori Amos • Epic
Damien Rice almost as blatantly as she did
home spoken word epic “Parameters.”
Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor on 1993’s “Past
Not everything works perfectly; in fact, the
HI hate elevator music,” Tori Amos declared
the Mission.” “Goodbye Pisces,” the most elo
final third of the record drags like a paralyzed
I in 1991. Fourteen years later and she’s
quent breakup song of the year, is guaranteed
limb until the stunning, strangely hopeful closer,
■ just released a record that wouldn’t sound
to send you scuttling for Kleenex.
“Recoil,” in which Ani juxtaposes the final days
out of place on the way up to the top floor.
“Cars and Guitars” describes love in auto
of her father’s life with her own self-imposed
The $18 question: Is it a trip worth taking?
motive and fast food drive-thru terminology
exile in a “sty strewn with half-wTitten songs.”
1 should admit that I hesitate to give The
and provides further proof of Tori being The
Like a bio-diesel engine converts vegetable
Beekeeper a lukewarm review for fear of being
Weirdest Lyricist Alive Besides Frank Black.
oil into fuel, Ani DiFranco continually trans
whisked off in the night by avenging faeries
The playful “Ireland” is the album’s most fun
and emasculated in
song by a long shot, lauding the simple plea
some fire-lit forest rit
sures of driving a Saab-ful of friends to the land
ual. Or at least chas
of leprechauns. The only track where Tori
tised for not being
sounds remotely pissed off is “Hoochie
better versed in all
Woman,” but it’s only halfhearted, and her phi
things esoteric to
landering lover gets off the hook tixi easily
more fully appreciate
with a verbal bitch slap: “You can keep the
Tori’s body of work.
house and the bank accounts ’cause boy I bring
The woman who
home the bacon.”
once graphically
Tori Amos caused Little Earthquakes with
described her rape—
her debut but would be lucky to make your
a cappella, no less—
dishes rattle with The Beekeeper. However,
in the back seat of a
when you’re Queen Bee of the Piano, you don’t
Cadillac (1991’s “Me
need seismic activity occurring with every
and a Gun”) and later
new release. jn
forms everyday heartaches into compelling
spat, “You think I’m a queer/I think you’re a
music. You never want to wish bad things for
queer” (1996’s “Blood Roses”) takes few
J im T hompson wants to write full time, when and
your friends, but let’s cross our fingers that her
chances with her new work, unless you count
if he ever grows up. Meanwhile, he doesn’t cry for
life doesn’t get too insanely happy anytime in
adding an organ to the mix and filling all but
yesterday because nobody knows what’s gonna
the near future.
30 seconds of an 80-minute CD. Now a 41-
happen tomorrow.
Talk and be Heard
Relax and be Inspired
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