MILF Mania Running Wild
By David Schultz

It would probably be an overstatement to term Liz Phair's Tuesday night show at New York City's Irving Plaza a Return To Guyville, but it also wouldn't be misleading. In the midst of a club tour to support her disappointing new album Somebody's Miracle, Phair fortuitously forewent pushing the new product and entertained loyal fans with classics from her revelatory Exile In Guyville as well as her most artistically impressive follow up Whitechocolatespaceegg. After remaining acoustic for her opening two songs, Phair and her band plugged in and raced through a surprisingly full and satisfying 90 minute set.

In the mid-nineties, legions of fans got turned on to (and by) Phair's graphic, sexually frank lyrics and stripped-down guitar style. With her last two albums, Phair has sorely tested her audience's patience, moving towards a mainstream sound with blander, more family-friendly songs. Comparable to Bruce Springsteen's experience when he outgrew teenage angst-ridden songs about escaping New Jersey, Phair, now a mother in her late 30's, struggles with her audience's unfair expectations that she perennially keep churning out the same R-rated tunes from her musical adolescence. True fans would never stand in the way of an artist's attempt to grow musically and lyrically. However, in light of her remarkable early triumphs, Phair's recent efforts have paled significantly.

While Phair moves artistically backward, her live performances greatly vault forward. Once beset by tremendous stage fright, Phair has transformed herself into a confident, adventurous headlining act. Especially during her older material, which her band dove into with relish, Phair radiates an ageless sexy coolness, offering a coy reminder of the vixen that lurks underneath. Claiming that she wanted to challenge herself, Phair delighted the crowd with a rare recitation of Only Son, effortlessly transforming the composed opening stanzas into the song's rocking guitar-heavy finish. Weaving her "disgust into fame," the show's highlights came when Phair and the band opened up the throttle and ripped into her Guyville-era classics Help Me Mary, Divorce Song, Mesmerizing and Whip Smart's orgasmic Supernova.

Phair's newly targeted audience skews much younger than may be comfortable for most concert goers. Approximately 2 years ago at a Phair show at the Roseland Ballroom, the 12-year-old girl standing next to me exuberantly sang along to every word of Fuck and Run while her clueless mom obliviously danced nearby. Fearing that merely listening to her might constitute a minor felony and petrified that she might also know Flower, I fled to the other side of the arena. Phair's excellent renditions this past Tuesday caused no such vexing conundrum, mostly owing to the 18+ age requirement. Unfortunately, the same can not be said for Phair's recent descent into pop-chart mediocrity. The hidden blessing? Next to her newer, disappointing material, Phair's remarkable classics stand out as truly groundbreaking feminist masterpieces.

Labels: Liz Phair