Taking West Wendover out towards I-40, I emerged from the tree-shaded residential roads around UNCG to an area thick with car dealerships, chain motels, and some kind of weird cabaret called Twilight Fuzzies or something. There was a picture of an airbrushed blond lady on the sign with gigantor yellow hair and a scary expression.
Turning off from that strip, I found the Best Buy, and browsed the laptop section. On my way out, I picked up ”Exile in Guyville,” Liz Phair’s album of 1993 that was recently re-released with a few B-sides. I’ve heard it in bits and pieces and always wanted to own a copy.
See-monkeys, do-monkeys
Story of my life
Send three bucks to a comic book
Get a house, car and wife
Send three bucks to a comic book
Get a house, car and wife
“Gunshy,” above, seemed especially still relevant, despite the fifteen year gap, when I was navigating the monstrous consumer-driven boxes of West Wendover. A lot of people focus on the novelty of a woman using lots of cuss words and writing a songs like “Fuck and Run,” but beyond that, I think these songs are challenging to notions of empowerment and gender today. That Phair can present as femme and use domineering, base language directed toward male interests (but not in the silicone dominatrix way) still shocks. That she can reveal vulnerability and not be a total jerk while doing this is also refreshing. Even the cashier at Best Buy pointed to one of the album tracks on the CD insert and said, ”Aren’t you surprised they didn’t ‘bleep this out?’”
(I’m eliding Phair’s next turn to Capitol Records, which was less subversive…but she’s back on an independent label again so that’s cool.)
Instead of a pop-ish trip to strip mall America, this husky, lo-fi album is better suited to a golden late afternoon sipping bourbon & water and giving it your undivided attention. Wish that was today, but I still have a few more hours to log in my cube until my weekend…
