Liz Phair, "Somebody's Miracle"

"Yeah, you’ve heard it all before” announces Liz Phair prophetically towards the end of her latest album Somebody’s Miracle, “but this time it’s true”. Hint to reader: this is largely bad news. Phair was the post-grunge golden girl, seemingly charming all the demographics culminating in a Rolling Stone cover and, surely, stardom. Along the way, though, the quality of her music has slowly diminished. Debut record Exile In Guyville was far more than a terrific title, brimming with confidence and attitude. It didn’t just stand up for women’s rights, it sounded sexy and fearless at the same time, a heady combination if ever there was one. A decade on from that first foray was an eponymous 4th album, which featured tracks such as "Good Love Never Dies" (really? All evidence points to the opposite) and had the single ‘Why Can’t I’ find its way onto the 13 Going On 30 soundtrack. From the spirit of Janis Joplin to Jennifer Garner in the space of a few records. Progress? Probably not.

And so now we reach make or break time. Somebody’s Miracle starts not with a bang but a whimper. Phair’s voice seems to have transformed into Delores O’Riordan’s from The Cranberries and the unfortunate pop sensibilities hinted at in previous records have manifested themselves with near disastrous results. She seems scared to let loose and extend those vocal cords; everything sounds polite, calm and clinical. What’s worse, as early as the second track, "Wind And The Mountain", frank admissions of a lack of interest in life are heard with alarming regularity (“But sometimes I am too tired...I’ve got nothing and no one...sometimes I am inspired...you lose your way”). The title track continues this whimsical theme and comes over as light and insubstantial. Do we really want to hear about “a modern fairy tale”? You imagine that the Liz Phair of the early 90s would shudder if she knew that it was going to turn out like this.

The album gets worse before matters improve. "Count On Your Love" has a chorus that any boy band would be proud to put their name to (“You only have to ask and I’ll be there for you”) whereas "Lazy Dreamer" has a set of opening lyrics which are just that (“You fall hard. You fall deep. Even when you’re awake. You look half asleep”). The current single "Everything To Me" is possibly the most frustrating effort on show, daring as it does to hint at greater possibilities but ultimately fading away with Phair’s reluctance to belt out her words. Given half a chance, you’d just love to buy her a drink, watch that tongue loosen and listen to her lungs rip without inhibition. And, strangely enough, come the end of proceedings, that’s exactly what takes place. "Everything (Between Us)" verges on haunting, sounds sensational and is far and away the standout effort on show. The final tune, "Giving It All To You", immediately follows and has a welcome rawness (“I don’t want to keep my feelings locked inside. Everytime I see you, you just blow my mind”) which you’re dying to hear more of. It’s sadly too little too late and, of course, as you’re starting to become engrossed in Phair’s songs and what she has to say and realize that she does matter, the album ends. Another Rolling Stone cover might be fanciful thinking at the moment but if the next record can pick up from where Somebody’s Miracle leaves off, then this undoubted talent could still reclaim our love. But don’t hold your breath because life, as you often hear but never read, is rarely Phair.