Ani DiFranco
Dilate

THE REVIEW

„Life used to be life-like, now it's more like show biz”

from “Dilate”

We all know Ani Di Franco, or at least everyone should know her. A very peculiar talent: on one side, the ability to string together verses between truth and poetry, on the other, a violent way of playing the guitar (so much so that she is often called punk-folk - how cool is the term punk-folk?) and a full voice that supports the stories she recounts (I don’t know if that’s a neologism, but I believe it best expresses what Difranco does).

The only limit Di Franco has had, in my opinion, is her prolific nature: her eagerness to release one or more albums a year hasn’t allowed many to grow fond of her works. Very often, from two albums, one could have emerged, alongside a series of breathtaking B-sides. I think that, especially if we refer to the first phase of her career, “Dilate” (and maybe even “Not a Pretty Girl”) is the most successful album. The one in which the singer set aside her typical overwhelming fervor and paused for a second to reflect, thus managing to create a coherent artistic project.

In “Dilate” we find everything that characterizes Difranco’s music, encapsulated in 11 great tracks that express anger, sweetness, and disenchantment. The main support is the faithful guitar, with the addition of percussion and bass in some tracks. The anger is directed both at the record companies’ system that swallows artists to spit them out as extras (“they told you your music// could reach millions//the choice is up to you” from “Napoleon”), and at her lovers (“And fuck you for existing in the first place” from “Untouchable Face”).

The first ten tracks are a whirlwind of strong emotions, in which resentment reigns supreme. And if the lyrics are very clear in this regard, Ani’s guitar is also played in an angry manner. Meanwhile, the last two compositions seem almost like the calm after the storm. “Adam and Eve” and “Joyful Girl” are less punk and more folk in rhythm, but above all, they are an introspection of Ani after having been angry with the world throughout the record (“I am truly sorry about all this//I envy your ignorance//I hear it is a bless” from “Adam and Eve”).

In short, perhaps it’s precisely these last two tracks that allow Difranco to take a step forward compared to her previous five albums, to take time to analyze her anger. After all, isn’t that what we all do as we grow? In any case, this album sounds like a rainy afternoon in 1996, with the sound of the TV in the distance and a life still at a human pace before that earthquake that will be digitization, that will lead our lives to a perpetual race.