It was never planned for me to write a post about music. When I first started this, I was going to keep it to books and writing and nothing else. Over the course of the past two years, I began bringing family matters into posts. I suppose it makes perfect sense: I am who I am as a direct result of my family and vice-versa. I also found other influences to bring in which, in total, makes me…me. And so, here I am talking about music. Again.
A previous post of mine talks specifically about music, as does this one, but I’ve never done an actual album review. But, after completing a full listen to Alanis Morissette’s album, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie, I felt compelled to talk about it.
Released in 1998, it was the long-awaited follow-up to her pop/angst album, Jagged Little Pill. In a lot of ways, “Junkie” had a lot to live up to. “Jagged” won Grammy’s Album of the Year in 1996. Alanis pulled in three more Grammys that night, so there was a whole lot riding on her next album. And, when Junkie started circulating, people really didn’t know what to make of it. I did, however, come to a decisive conclusion:
Now, I don’t mean awesome in the way that someone would also say, “badass” or “totally”. I mean awesome in the sense of its power and intensity. Jagged has its “Ironic” and “You Oughta Know”, both rife with anger and both subtle and obvious. Junkie, on the other hand, blasts you with emotion as soon as the opening song “Front Row” opens with Alanis’ harmonized emotional push. And that’s the theme of the album: emotion. About 30 seconds into “Front Row”, you have two choices: bail out or dig in. The album doesn’t–won’t–let up or let go of you. And I love it.
Wading through each song, there is an obvious (some would say over-) produced feel about it. Glen Ballard, hands down one of the industry’s best producers, has worked with Michael Jackson, Aerosmith, and Dave Matthews. Working with Alanis, the two created a rich and thick collection of 17 songs. The number of songs is also a little intimidating upon first glance. Plus, they’re not short songs either. Junkie has a running length of 72 minutes, which is massive for a single album. She could have easily thrown in one or more songs and turned it into a 2-disc album, but that, I feel, would have taken away from its presence. Looking at song titles like the incredibly haunting fourth song “Are You Still Mad” (by far my favorite track) and the simply young-yet-wisened “Unsent”, I could tell it was going to be intense and incredibly personal.
So here I am, listening to it for a second go-around tonight, and I think it’s the weight of the album that I love so much. And by weight, I don’t mean heavy. Perhaps…dense…is a better explanation. There’s very little acoustic guitar and just hints of her signature harmonica play. Even with her acquired-taste fully open-mouthed vocals, she spends a lot of time in the back of a small mouth. Her voice is often quiet and, at many times hanging in the lower register, which adds to the density of her songs. Being a singer myself, I love it when a performer’s voice truly becomes another instrument and adds to the fullness of each song.
I’m not sure if I’ve done the album any true justice. This is my first review and it’s subject to wandering. Perhaps it’s after listening to Junkie (twice) that I’m exhausted and ready to climb under some heavy blankets so I can continue to feel the same weight as I just experienced.
If you haven’t yet, give Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie a go. If you already have, give it another go. Just remember to hold your breath and give in. It’s safer if you do.