Liz Phair has never been of much interest to me, despite my general fondness of strong female singer-songwriters. I had heard a few songs from her first three albums and never been too impressed, so I never bothered to delve deeper into Liz’s music until her most recent effort, an album simply titled Liz Phair. Liz got some interest in the nineties, but her previous efforts didn’t do too well and she hasn’t released anything since 1998’s whitechocolatespaceegg. I imagine part of the long recording break was also due to getting married and having a kid. Liz has since divorced and moved cross country, which affects the nature of this album in many ways. I half expected Liz Phair to be an album full of break-up woes, even though her past efforts have been largely ballsy and absolutely littered with in your face sexually explicit lyrics. Not that I have a problem with that, I just didn’t enjoy her vocal/lyrical combination when set to her style of lo-fi indie rock.

Liz Phair takes a nearly 360 degree turn from her previous music style with less than stellar results. What you’ll find her is a largely mellower Liz Phair - one who has learned to sing a bit better and found a bit of a pop groove. She has also moved into the realm of slick production with the help of hit-creating producers The Matrix (no, not the movie) who were responsible for top songs by Avril Lavigne, Ricky Martin, and other similar artists. Perhaps it’s a last ditch effort to make it really big or maybe hitting her late 30’s has truly changed where her interests lie. Those who loved Liz’s first three albums will probably end up destroying this disc after the first listen while newcomers (and those who just didn’t dig her indie albums) might just feel so-so about Liz Phair.

Opening track “Extraordinary” is rock in the vein of Sheryl Crow or Avril Lavigne - radio safe, not too aggressive and peppered with studio effects. “Why Can’t I” is much of the same and both songs are lacking any sort of substance. The lyrics are trite, her witty songwriting style is gone, and she sounds just like an older Avril Lavigne. (Did I mention Avril’s hit writers pitched in on this album?) Similarly, “It’s Sweet” is too saccharine for its own good and “Friend of Mine” - with all it’s fake sounding soft rock - can disappear for all I care. Her banal attempt at humor can be found in “Favorite,” an ode to someone who feels “like my favorite underwear.” Liz’s song about her son dealing with her latest boyfriend, “Little Digger,” will probably appeal to the pre-teen crowd for its cutesy lyrics and pseudo-angst.

This is one album I hope I never have to hear again. Liz’s previous work definitely appealed to a certain audience - you either loved her or hated her. Unfortunately, even though the style is completely different this album is more of the same. Five years in the making doesn’t seem to have aged Liz’s music in any way. I don’t know that anyone needs to listen to Liz sing about her flings with twenty-something guys or her favorite, ahem, male-produced protein treatment (H.W.C., which epinions censors the actual title of). If contrived, soulless pop-rock is your thing then Liz Phair will be right up your alley.

Track Listing:
1. Extraordinary
2. Red Light Fever
3. Why Can’t I?
4. It’s Sweet
5. Rock Me
6. Take a Look
7. Little Digger
8. Firewalker
9. Favorite
10. Love/Hate
11. H.W.C.
12. Bionic Eyes
13. Friend of Mine

Recommended: No