The Observer, October 13, 2006
Volume XXXIX, Issue 7
Ani DiFranco's honesty, passion, embue Reprieve
I think it's supremely unimaginative to write off prolific folk singer-songwriter Ani DiFranco as an "angry girl." Sure, she's pretty vocal about her political beliefs, and doesn't take crap from anyone, but there's so much more to this supremely talented songwriter than her occasional anti-capitalist/chauvinist/whateverist rants. Avril Lavigne is an angry girl. Ani DiFranco has much more than heavy eyeliner and men's ties going for her. Case in point: DiFranco was presented with the Women of Courage Award in July for her contributions to the feminist movement by the National Organization for Women.
Labels aside, DiFranco has more than enough reason to be a little pissed off on her latest album, Reprieve; you try recording your 18th studio album in New Orleans during a natural disaster (see: Hurricane Katrina) and then see if you don't get a bit put off by the flooding and the federal blunders that interrupt your work. After being evacuated from New Orleans, DiFranco returned three days after the levees broke to rescue what was left of her recordings and whisked them off to Buffalo, New York, to salvage what was left of her tracks.
An angry girl could have turned Reprieve into a blazing, all-out musical rant against government inefficacy and greed, but instead, DiFranco turns in an introspective, melancholy set of 12 songs which sound like a natural progression from her recent introspective turn on 2004's Educated Guess. Ranging from the spoken-word title poem to the sweetly melodic "Nicotine" to the derisive, ironic "Decree," DiFranco proves on Reprieve that even anger can be beautiful. But the best song on the album might be DiFranco's forlorn lost-love song, "Unrequited;" like one of her earlier songs exploring alienated affection and saying goodbye, "Both Hands", "Unrequited" aches with sadness and honesty set over DiFranco's favored eclectic harmonies. DiFranco, who took more time producing Reprieve than any of her previous albums, carefully orchestrates the details of the album for the greatest sensory impact; The tracks run seamlessly into one another, accumulating emotion as the album progresses.
No musician can write and produce an album in a year without first being able to do something right. DiFranco's quirky vocals and fantastic finger-picking skills are her greatest assets, and she doesn't let them go to waste on Reprieve. The spare texture she favors throughout the album accentuates her instrumental skills, her vocals often reduced to an urgent undertone.
While DiFranco rarely invokes the soaring, powerful vocal and instrumental texture of previous albums on Reprieve, the songs on this album (whose title means literally, temporary relief) are moving in their understated emotion and intelligence. If this is what an angry girl sounds like, we might all benefit from a little anger.
