By Richard Harrington
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, August 17, 1997; Page G11
The Washington Post
Singer, songwriter and anti-corporate tycoon Ani DiFranco has
built her audience the old-fashioned way: near-constant touring
interspersed with album releases. As her fans will attest,
DiFranco's bracing performances probably best define her.
Opening for Bob Dylan at Wolf Trap Aug. 23 and 24, she has
released 10 studio albums in eight years. Now she has
documented the vitality of her concerts.
Once again, DiFranco's done it on her terms: "Living in Clip" is
a double CD on her own record label, Righteous Babe,
containing 31 tracks. Reportedly produced without any
post-production tweaking, "Living in Clip" features a bright
bootleg-quality sound, though its packaging (including a
36-page souvenir album) is first class. DiFranco is staunchly
supported by drummer Andy Stochansky and bassist Sara
Lee, who know when to lay down slipstream grooves and
when to kick into overdrive, but she remains front and center in
both sound and spirit.
The album title comes from a sound engineer's joke about
DiFranco pushing her amplifiers to the limit -- the point studio
people refer to as "in clip." That image of operating close to
overload is an appropriate metaphor. Fearless and
un-self-conscious in her writing, singing and kinetic acoustic
guitar playing, DiFranco often seems to push the envelope of
frenetic performance. Yet her work has a surprisingly wide
emotional and dynamic range and she's blessed with a voice
that can reflect both quiet vulnerability and fiery resistance.
While her lyrics can be caustic, particularly on issues of gender
politics and social injustice, DiFranco also knows how to gently
illuminate emotional dilemmas. In the bittersweet meditation
"Sorry I Am," she concedes "I don't know what it is about you/
I just know it's not what it was." It's as concise a definition of
love's end as you'll ever hear. The collection's one new song,
"Gravel," also serves up recriminations over difficult
relationships, but better captures the singer's independent
streak: "Maybe you can keep me from ever being happy/ but
you're not going to keep me from having fun!"
DiFranco also explores the tangled terrain of the heart on the
slow, edgy "Adam and Eve" ("I did not design the game/ I did
not name the stakes/ I just happen to like apples/ and I am not
afraid of snakes").
Anger over social inequities informs such songs as "Every State
Line" and "Not So Soft." In "Willing to Fight," DiFranco
suggests those who don't notice what's happening in the world
around them "walk outside to where the neighborhood
changes." And in the only public performance of the
loop-driven "Hide and Seek," DiFranco recounts the terrors of
a young girl long abused by men: "I would feel dirty and
ashamed/ but I wouldn't let it stop my game."
Such spirited resilience is also at the heart of the roiling "In and
Out" and "The Slant/ The Diner," "Anticipate" and "I'm No
Heroine." In the latter DiFranco sings:
I just write about what I should've done
I sing what I wish I could say
And I hope somewhere some woman hears my music
And it helps her through her day.
In the past, DiFranco's audience has consisted predominantly
of young women, but her work is as much humanist as feminist
and one suspects she will soon have a wider circle of fans.