In the November/December 1996 issue of Ms., Ellen Papazian wrote of Ani DiFranco, "What's really amazing about her is that she's a take-no-shit feminist with incredible musical ability (ranging from plaintive folk to all-out rock, with African rhythms, hip-hop, and spoken word thrown in), whose lyrics inspire almost slavish devotion." Now, more than 11 years later, this statement still rings as clear and true as one of DiFranco's chords on her new 2-disc album Canon, which debuted Sept. 11.
Canon, DiFranco's first retrospective album, chronologically highlights her entire career, which spans 17 years and includes several newly recorded tracks. Since her humble beginnings, playing Beatles covers in local bars in Buffalo, N.Y., DiFranco has created a daunting number of songs woven with political commentary and personal thought. As DiFranco puts it, "Of course I'm describing the world along the way and my perceptions of the world, but, as with any artist, it's really me that I'm talking about!" Talking about herself is something DiFranco is undoubtedly unashamed and unafraid of, even saying in her album opener "somebody's gotta be interested in how I feel / just cuz I'm here and I'm real."
As one unfamiliar with DiFranco's career and music style, this sincerity and Canon's overall raw honesty really caught me off-guard. Today, in a world of studio-doctored, blended tracks, DiFranco's uncut chords (vocal and instrumental) are a refreshing break. Simply listen to the album opener, "Fire Door" with its aggressive, upbeat chords, and be instantly transported from Clemons Library to an outside amphitheater. From "Fire Door" until the end of disc 2, DiFranco's songs range from upbeat to mellow, from funny to heartbreaking, but always manage to remain incredibly insightful, making it the ideal introduction for a first-time listener.
Though the 2-disc album was created to play from beginning to end, those who are indeed first-time listeners should begin with songs like the sweet, unassuming "32 Flavors," the funky re-recorded "Shameless" and the mellow "Marrow." While these songs are easy to listen to, there are others like "Coming Up," that require more dedication. As opposed to the laid-back amphitheater of "Fire Door," this track inspires an image of a smoky room during an artful poetry reading. Its free-verse-style lyrics state, "this country is too large / and whoever's in charge up there / had better take the elevator down / and put more than change / in our cup / or else we / are coming / up." While incredibly interesting to mull over, "Coming Up" and songs like it probably aren't a good choice for a lazy afternoon spent catching up on reading or relaxing. Whatever your taste, mood or location, however, Canon and its 36 songs certainly have something for everyone.
Coming into this album with hardly any prior knowledge of Ani DiFranco, I was surprised to find her -- at times unsettling -- honesty strangely endearing. She manages to highlight life's odd idiosyncrasies in a way that makes unpleasant memories seem vaguely amusing. Pair those perspective-altering lyrics with 36 songs for the price of a normal album, and Ani DiFranco's Canon emerges as an essential buy for anyone who enjoys good music.