A dozen years ago, I heard one Liz Phair song on the radio and bought the CD. I’ve bought every one since. I heard the first song on her most recent CD, and I think this may be my last. I listened all the way through, but it was painful. By the end, I was making guesses about the next tired rock cliche, will she say “Baby” in this one? Yes.
As one Amazon reviewer said, “It is OK if she wants to be Sheryl Crow, but this isn’t even good Sheryl Crow.”

What the heck happened? Selling songs and making a living is good, but do they have to be so bland? Exile in Guyville is in the past, I don’t expect another one of those, but Somebody’s Miracle is just lame. Liz can write pop, I’m sure of it. “Polyester Bride” from whitechocolatespaceegg has a monster hook. The chorus will be stuck in my head for two days just from typing that sentence.

It’s been a fun ride, but I’m getting off now. Spread your wings and fly away, Liz.