That’s the poster for Lagaan, btw…
[Website]
[4.46]
Hazel Robinson: Awkward storytelling something about The Man in Hollywood telling her she was too old (the Bollywood link being “maybe you was thinking that you was in the Bollywood”) via some incredibly irritating and disruptive special effects and then some generic, stolen sounds. Great! Next: sticking pins through my eyes.
[1]
Iain Mew: This is the first Liz Phair song that I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if that makes it more or less WTF than for anyone else. I’m not sure of anything much after listening to this, least of all how anyone is meant to review it — it had me testing if I could submit a review without a score (I can’t). Flailing around for reference points I can only think of The Fiery Furnaces if they indulged every one of their worst instincts in full. Every time there’s a creative and unexpected turn there’s no time to enjoy it before a “Huh?? Like what??” “the Hollywood”, “pretty po-nay” or any one of a number of “hilarious” accents comes along to piss all over it.
[2]
Jonathan Bogart: I don’t have any particular nostalgic (or otherwise) affection for her supposed classic material, so I haven’t been able to participate in the alternate horror and schadenfreude of her supposed decline. What this reminds me of most is the kind of unfiltered, anything-at-the-wall approach that Christian contemporary singers, especially those who considered themselves entertainers, were taking in the late 80s and early 90s, when record labels were generous but no one had any clue what might catch on, and cool wasn’t an option in the first place. The fact that Liz (or anyone!) can now do it for the cost of pirated software from the privacy of her own laptop only makes me wonder why we don’t have more such tasteless, fuck-the-conventions insanity in current pop.
[9]
Pete Baran: I really, really, really don’t know what’s going on here. Really. It’s such a car crash of a record that there was clearly no expectation of it being a single, it’s like Liz wanted to make a Laurie Anderson B-Side but only had three samples and one terrible actor available. As such its awfulness dazzles to a degree that it earns itself a few extra points for just waking me up! But Liz, go be a fire officer somewhere.
[3]
Tal Rosenberg: Pretty sure that’s a banjo and not a sitar. I’m also pretty sure that this is a Laurie Anderson impersonator, except she’s not funny, a little childish, and forgets that Laurie Anderson talks, but doesn’t rap. Liz Phair: Exiled to Lamesville.
[4]
Alfred Soto: “American Life” with a triple shot-tay of humor — at least I think it’s supposed to be funny. Or maybe Phair expects us to believe her national “profile” is such that we care about how rock critics regard her. I’ve never felt so irrelevant.
[4]
Mallory O’Donnell: Unmentionable.
[0]
Katherine St Asaph: As one of the undoubtedly few defenders of this — I’ll be stunned if there are more than two — I should back myself up. Every criticism you could possibly raise against this is completely fair. No, Liz can’t really rap, although she’s no worse than Ke$ha. Yes, the tabla backing — indeed, the whole Bollywood thing — is about as culturally sensitive as someone who takes up yoga because he “likes exotic things.” The gimmicks come at a rate of roughly one per second. But all this is still miles better than the third-rate Avril Lavigne shit that’s been foisted upon Liz (and maybe she helped with the foisting, but who cares?) since about 2003. That’s in turn been foisted for personality, and I refuse to hate something that makes me smile this much. Not even an immature record-label FU; especially not an immature record-label FU.
[8]
Anthony Easton: I kind of love someone writing a concept album about how difficult it is to make a living as an entertainer after 40, plus this is so strange and garagey, that it might be the only avant garde left. Like that Phair is still surprising us.
[8]
Al Shipley: I don’t particularly like the Liz Phair songs that are supposed to be good, so it’s not a huge compliment to say this is the most entertainment I’ve ever gotten out of her. This is pretty hilarious on a number of levels, though.
[6]
Martin Skidmore: It’s as gigantically pleased with itself as any record I’ve heard in a while, which undermines any amusement value. I kind of like the music, but the self-satisfaction wrecks my enjoyment of that.
[2]
Rebecca Toennessen: When I can’t tell if someone is taking the piss out of themselves or ‘the media’, it’s not a good sign. Apparently she’s satirizing the Hollywood co-opting of Bollywood culture post-Slumdog Millionaire, or something. I really loved Exile in Guyville and Whip-Smart, so I’m hoping this is just a bit of a miss on what is a better album.
[5]
Chuck Eddy: So this is what people are all aghast about, that she made a blatant goofy novelty single that’s not much worse than, say, Princess Superstar ever was? What the hell? Liz started out her career sounding like the Waitresses only not as good, and they rapped sometimes. And she’s been talking as well as singing — and often talking better than she sings — ever since her debut. Which was as overrated as her self-titled 2005 album was underrated, primarily by people who think old women in their, gasp, mid 30s shouldn’t be allowed to get horny. So anyway. This is not one of her best songs, duh. But the gap between this and her best isn’t that huge. And I kind of like the guy who sounds like Bowzer.
[6]