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Rating: Musically speaking, 1998 was quite a prolific year. "Moon Pix" by Cat Power revolutionizes the indie-rock concept, "Slide" reconfirms itself as yet another masterpiece by Lisa Germano, and Tori Amos takes a turn in her career with the accessible "From The Choirgirl Hotel." Few, however, know about this "Whitechocolatespaceegg."
Liz Phair, after all, has never loved glossy covers (at least until then; from 2003 she will begin to pursue them blatantly), and indeed, the program behind "Exile In Guyville" (her debut, 1993) reveals itself as overtly "anti-commercial." The formula is clear: scandalous and censorable lyrics, provocative and eccentric image (somewhere between Courtney Love and PJ Harvey, for reference) and a contralto voice that can open up to infinite tone changes. Praised by critics specializing from the outset (the work she did on the first album was exemplary: a back-and-forth with Jagger-the-misogynist in the form of improbable sexual proposals), Liz Phair, starting from her first single in heavy rotation ("Supernova," from "Whip-Smart"), has managed to win over a fairly large fan base, despite the (not entirely justified) lukewarm reviews that greeted the release of the second album.
Many believe Liz Phair went into a coma after the release of the first album, and after the controversial "Liz Phair" she definitively passed away. But at least it was talked about. At least "Why Can't I?" raged across America a few years ago. But who has ever mentioned "Whitechocolatespaceegg"? Who has managed to admit that we are facing one of the best works released in recent years? The originality that gave life to this album has the same seed that birthed "The Velvet Underground & Nico" or the early albums of Pink Floyd. And I am not exaggerating.
Listen to "Baby Got Going," which smells of the west, or the grunge of the title-track. Let yourself be plucked by the guitar strings of "Perfect World" and be lulled by the sleepy trance of "Headache," sung with a laziness that is not too distant a relative of Lunch's singing.
The layered pop of "What Makes You Happy," free from the mannerisms of Garbage, anticipates those paths that will become dear to Phair in a few years. The rural America, the southern one, is dusted off by the honor stories of "Uncle Alvarez," but the epic singing on which the gem that is "Shitloads Of Money" unfolds is truly timeless. Liz Phair has grown up. With a pregnancy behind her (the "Space Egg" of the title is an affectionate reference to her newborn son's little head), she has even (but not entirely) abandoned the vulgarity that made her famous. And she chooses to do what she does best.
Sing.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
03 Perfect World (02:15)
What a pretty life you have
Oh boy it's a pretty life you have
And I would need a map
just so I could navigate the backyard
Home is very ordinary
I know I was born to lead a double life
Of murder, strife and misery
And when I find it, I know I'll make sense of me
I want to be cool, tall, vulnerable and luscious
I would have it all if I'd only had this much
No need for Lucifer to fall if he'd learn to keep his mouth shut
I would be involved with you
I know the girls that live inside your world
Just sitting next to a mortal makes their skin crawl
I want to be cool, tall, vulnerable and luscious
I would have it all if I'd only had this much
No need for Lucifer to fall if he'd learn to keep his mouth shut
I would be involved with you
05 Polyester Bride (04:05)
I was talking, not two days ago
To a certain bartender I'm lucky to know
And I asked Henry, my bartending friend
If I should bother dating unfamous men
And Henry said, "You're lucky to even know me
You're lucky to be alive
You're lucky to be drinking here for free
'Cause I'm a sucker for your lucky, pretty eyes"
And then he said
Do you want to be a polyester bride
Do you want to hang your head and die
Do you want to find alligator cowboy boots they just put on sale
Do you want to flap your wings and fly away from here
And I was sitting, not two days ago
Feeling lonely 'cause I'm just feeling low
And I asked Henry, my bartending friend
Why it is that there are those kind of men
And Henry said, "You're lucky to even know me
You're lucky to be alive
You're lucky to be drinking here for free
'Cause I'm a sucker for your lucky, pretty eyes"
And then he said
Do you want to be a polyester bride
Do you want to hang your head and die
Do you want to find alligator cowboy boots they just put on sale
Do you want to flap your wings and fly away from here
Princess do you really wanna flap your wings and fly
'Cause you've got time
He keeps telling me, you've got time
But I don't believe him, you've got time
I keep on pushing harder
I keep on pushing farther away
But he keeps tellin' me, baby
He says baby, yeah
Do you want to be a polyester bride
Do you want to hang your head and die
Do you want to find alligator cowboy boots they just put on sale
Do you want to flap your wings and fly away from here
Do you want to be a polyester bride (away from here)
Do you want to be a polyester bride (away from here)
Do you want to be a polyester bride
Princess, do you really wanna flap your wings and fly away from here
08 Uncle Alvarez (03:52)
There's a portrait of Uncle Alvarez
Hanging in the hall
Nobody wants to look at it
But Uncle Alvarez sees us all
Ho, ho, ho, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
Better send a postcard and keep the family quiet
He's not really part Cherokee Indian
He didn't fight in the Civil War
He's just Eugene Isaac Alvarez
We feel sorry for the wall
Ho, ho, ho, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
You're gonna make them sorry when you die
And it's a long way down
You're hoping for heart attack
Running around
And messing in this and that, and
Your beautiful wife keeps your life on a shelf for you
Safe in the bedroom where there's no dust or mildew and
It's hard to believe you were once a beautiful dancer...
Better just to shake it off
As you write your resumé
Don't think of Uncle Alvarez
And the price he had to pay
Ho, ho, ho, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
You're gonna make them sorry when you die
Ho, ho, ho, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
Better send some money to the Alma Matter
09 Only Son (05:08)
All these babies are born
To the wrong kind of people
And I wish I had known
I was not good enough
I'm the worst kind of son
Bringing shame to my family
And I know I have worn
My mother's heart out, believe me
I saw it
I saw it coming
All these things I have done
To my little little sister
When I try to support her
She don't believe
Shy should she?
I hurt her
I mean I hurt her
So goodbye, so long, I'm gone already
I'm running out of time
I'm losing my mind]
Won't you come take me home?
Won't somebody hold me?
All these babies are born
Like a field full of poppies
Who's gonna know which are torn?
I believe I'll soon leave the meadow
I see my shadow
I think I'm losing my soul...
11 Headache (02:53)
I can see the Russian Army rolling through my head
On one side of me lies the enemy, the other half is dead
I've got diamonds and I've got pearls. . .
And I said "Hey mister, won't you come for me?"
You can take me home, but I will never be your girl
I won't let your mystery unfurl
That's the whole thing about it. . .
I'm so in love today
I've been waiting at the bus stop
Come my way?
"Hey mister, won't you come for me?"
I'm a
Psychosomatic sister
Running around without a leash
You can take me home, but I will never be your girl
I won't let your mystery unfurl
In the Russian Army rolling through my head
The snow is falling, January's all across the land
I've got seven other men in the ditches behind me, and
I think I'm the last survivor
And I said "Hey mister, won't you come for me?"
I'm a
Psychosomatic sister
Running around without a leash
You can take me home, but I will never be your girl
I won't let your mystery unfurl
13 What Makes You Happy (03:36)
But don't worry, Mom
I met him in a restaurant
And all this time, I've been getting to know him
He's got an ex-wife in Pasadena
And sometimes she's a mess
To deal with
But mostly, we've been living here uninjured
There's a silence, and she says,
"Listen here, Young Lady
All that matters is what makes you happy
But you leave this house knowing my opinion won't
Make you love me if you don't care to"
I'm sending you this photograph
I swear this one is gonna last
And all those other bastards were only practice
I feel the sun on my back
I smell the earth in my skin
I see the sky above me like a
Full recovery
"Listen here, Young Lady
All that matters is what makes you happy
But you leave this house knowing my opinion won't
Make a difference if you're not ready" (2x)
14 Fantasize (01:55)
He's a friend of mine
Kind of special guy
He's a run-around
Hey, you've got to hide your love away!
I hear people are talking about us
And I just have to say
I lie awake every night
Thinking about you. I fantasize...
All around me people are changing
He's a special guy
Kind of sentimental inside
I hear people are talking about us
That's ok with me
Get it easily inside...
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