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Ani Difranco - Knuckle Down
CD DetailsArtist: Ani Difranco Brand: Baker & Taylor Edition: Music CD CD Release Date: 2005-01-25 Model: 00748731704223 Music Label: Righteous Babe Soundtracks: - knuckle down
- studying stones
- manhole
- sunday morning
- modulation
- seeing eye dog
- lag time
- parameters
- callous
- paradigm
- minerva
- recoil
Music reviews of Knuckle DownMusic Review: A New Producer Helps Ani Find Middle Ground Rating: 3 Stars
It's not that Ani DiFranco hasn't been produced by anyone else. It's more that she and her cadre of sympathetic ears have been at the helm of her unique folk-rock sound for the better part of a decade - outside producers are a distant memory. Yet, after two distinctly different and somtimes dissatisfying self-produced efforts, Knuckle Down introduces outside element Joe Henry to man the knobs (known to most for penning the chop-sueyed guitar on Madonna's "Don't Tell Me").
The question is immediate: how would a relative stranger - an artist in his own right - interpret Ani's sound? Would she still be Ani? Could he find the middle ground between jazzy extravagance and tuneless-clutter of her past two discs (respectively)?
Opener and title track "Knuckle Down" is a clear answer, bringing a familiarly frantic guitar attack and a wild meandering acoustic bass line to bear on a lengthy set of quickly unraveling lyrics; a retread of much Educated Guess but with more concise production.
This type of song, though enticingly familiar through it's six-string pyrotechnics, has been DiFranco's weakest as of late - lacking the clear chorus or hook of former favorites. Here it hardly matters - Ani and Henry have sharpened the arrangement of this (and every other) song to a keen edge. There is bass when needed to underscore or drive, strings when needed for tonality or mood, but above all of the added elements there is Ani, with her guitar and her words, at the forefront of each tune.
Nowhere is this more obvious than on "Studying Stones," carried by growling bass notes and quick harmonics accented by drunken-sounding stream of strings painting colors in the background, all of which give way to a childlike see-sawing chorus dabbed with single key words of harmony. It is unlike anything else Ani has recorded, and is simply spectacular.
It is not alone in its success. "Sunday Morning" is a beautiful paean to taking Sundays in bed for granted, the quietly tangled mess of acoustic, bass, and electric guitars supporting Ani's most crystalline regrets of a relationship since the seething of Dilate.
The guitar on "Manhole" quotes the rag piano of a decade-old "Back Around," enlivening a set of confusing lyrics that write off past (and present) lovers by way of slipping off wedding rings and stealing tasteless kisses. The chorus nails a wailing crescendo, following it up with a charmingly whistled bridge via Righteous Babe artist Andrew Bird.
As sure as there are successes, Henry's confident production leads a few songs slightly astray. "Modulation" is inscrutable, with discordant riffs and seemingly strung together lyrics; Ani suddenly blurts out, "Neither of us were wearing helmets, and our blood was everywhere!" just so she can arrive at the eventual refrain "You were better than any drug." "Seeing Eye Dog" has too many metaphors that don't gel with its bluesy stomp and uptempo fingerpicked chorus. "Minerva" is pretty, but never decides what it's trying to achieve after nearly five minutes of meandering. Prosaic "Parameters" lingers a bit too long, making the well-arranged "Callous" seem a little soporific.
Still, what clearly distinguishes this album are the strangely perfect moments amongst the occasional misfires - unfamiliar and exciting moments like "Lag Time," where reminders of the past find success in their departures from a former formula. The guitar of "Lag Time" is gorgeous - a roiling jazzy effort that (thankfully) isn't obscured by a band's worth of excess arrangement. It supports a set of increasingly abstract lyrics, starting off with the three-second rule and ending with a crawling through the desert as a potato bug.
By contrast, "Paradigm" is a frank childhood confession over a mid-tempo gallop of relentless electric eighth-notes. Even though it's electrified like her mid-career efforts, the song harkens back to the acoustic simplicity of songs of Ani's debut, when there was no question that the words she spoke represented her real life, with no vagueness or exaggeration to be found.
What is perhaps the most memorable song on the disc is its last: "Recoil" recalls messy drum-loop love affairs from Ani's late-90s efforts, but it evokes them more due of the weary strength of her voice paired with a standard four-bar chord progression. In a performance perhaps made fiercer by her father's recent passing (the song, written prior to his death, lyrically checks him in the second verse), she confesses to the distance she feels surrounding her even though she remains as close and as tangible as ever. "I come home," she laments, "and my guitar has nothing to say to me." The song decelerates to a simple strum on "Nothing much's going on" as its bridge before launching back into the fiddled under-guitar loops that otherwise propel it.
"Recoil" is a song about isolation, but it's one of the most terrifically engaging tunes Ani has penned in years. Through Henry's sharpening of aural focus Ani's stories have become even more central - the arrangements exist seemingly just to serve them. Just as some fans of her originally bare bisexual folk balked at the production of often-hetero love songs of the late 90s, fans initiated through years of listener-friendly discs filled with undeniably catchy songs could find this newest fare unpalatable: Ani is far from returning to penning more of the sing-along classics of her youth. It's great news for artistic growth, and even in its failures it makes for a thrillingly different disc, but it may be a let down to some longtime listeners.
More Knuckle Down free music reviews: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Description of Knuckle DownThe music on Ani DiFranco?s latest CD is as stunning as ever, packed with irresistible melodies, poignant lyrics, and virtuoso performances. But for the first time in her career, Ani has invited a fellow singer-songwriter to work with her as co-producer: Joe Henry, himself the creator of nine highly regarded solo albums. She is also joined by more than half a dozen guest musicians, many of whom have played key roles in Ani?s recent career, including current stage partner Todd Sickafoose, former band member Julie Wolf, and Righteous Babe recording artist Andrew Bird. Through twelve new songs as intricately crafted as short stories, DiFranco creates another unforgettable musical self-portrait of a woman coming to grips with love?s twists and turns, confronting the legacy of her family, and learning to live on her own terms. Even after 15 years of releasing albums on her own Righteous Babe imprint, it's hard to know what to make of Ani DiFranco. Some see her as a folkie-punk-bisexual-feminist-radical-crap-kicker, while others reckon she's merely Alanis Morissette with better lyrics. On her 15th studio album the truth just might be somewhere in between. She does dysfunctional family portraits ("Studying Stones") and broken affairs ("Lag Time") just fine, but she also manages to leave room for rambling, autobiographical beat poetry ("Parameters"). And then there is the music. Matching acoustic guitars with earthy funk rhythms and soft moonlight moods with out-of-leftfield song arrangements, it reconfirms the one label everyone can agree upon: fiercely original. --Aidin Vaziri Recommended Ani DiFranco Discography  Out of Range |  Not a Pretty Girl |  So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter |  Little Plastic Castle |  Revelling/Reckoning |  Living in Clip |
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