Polyester bride or blowjob queen?

A much fairer hatchet job on Liz Phair than Pitchfork's 2003 evisceration of her eponymous album, but still clueless. The weaker songs don't sound like Nickleback to these ears; "Wind and the Mountain," the album's best track, is hardly "we're-gonna-get-you-through-this Dr. Phil crap" (plus, the writer is unaware that Dr. Phil's method is You-will-listen-to-me-and-maybe-you'll-get-through-this). Since the release of 1998's whitechocolatespaceegg (her best album? I think so) Phair's great gift has been to marry reassuring chordal structures and melodies to increasingly conflicted riffs on domesticity, and while Somebody's Miracle isn't at that level (or at the level of its predecessor), the good songs are as surprising as the kind Amy Rigby churns out at such an alarming pace.

(Fans still want their blowjob queen back, though. Today the general manager of the university radio station lamented Liz's movement popwards. "I stopped caring when she hired The Matrix," he said, eyes tearing up. Keep in mind: he must have been 11 years old when Exile in Guyville was purportedly reminding him that he wasn't ever going to date women like the protagonists of "Divorce Song" and "Fuck and Run," so if he's thinking of stoning this painted bawd he'd best drop those rocks.)

Look for my review tomorrow.