I was lucky enough to catch Liz Phair's live show here in San Francisco this week, one of a handful where she's performing Exile in Guyville in its entirety to promote the album's re-release this month. While the 1993 album originally dropped a tiny bit too early for a then-preteen me to catch on right away, this CD found me by the time I had gotten my first taste of romantic angst. I felt (in that slightly melodramatic, teenage way) as if she'd opened my diary and added some guitar. She was singing about stuff I'd never heard a woman sing about, and it kind of blew my mind.
Thursday's Ani Difranco interlude on So You Think You Can Dance also reminded me of how much my friends and I related — or at least thought we did — to her 1996 album Dilate. And for a while, everything out of Tori Amos's mouth seemed so right-on and true. Oh, to be young and whisked away by the lyrics of a rock star!
Tell me: Which album first gave voice to your inner thoughts and dreams? What singers articulated everything in their music that you couldn't yet?