Confessional Immediacy

By CHRISTOPHER JOHN FARLEY

Alanis Morissette's new CD, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie, is her second shot at putting out a good second album. Her 1991 debut, the dance-pop album Alanis, which featured such lyrics as "You're just a party party party boy," brought her modest renown, mostly in her native Canada and mostly (one presumes) among people there who don't read lyric sheets. After her uninspired 1992 follow-up, Now Is the Time, which included a wistful song about standing in the rain outside a Rod Stewart concert, her career stalled. But Morissette's third album, Jagged Little Pill (1995), her first for Madonna's Maverick records, was her breakthrough. On it she no longer portrayed herself as a peppy pop princess but as a brash young woman with demands, demons--and desires. This new Morissette craved "intellectual intercourse." This new Morissette sang about irony, revenge and sex acts in theaters. Jagged Little Pill, according to SoundScan, sold more than 13 million copies.

Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie is Morissette's follow-up to her big success. It's not a great album, but it's a greatly ambitious one. After the big splash of Jagged Little Pill, Morissette slipped into a blind spot of the public's eye. She went to India; she tested her physical limits in a triathlon; she passed on interviews. When she re-entered the studio earlier this year, she had more on her mind and much more to say; the songs on her new CD deal with such issues as false gurus and abusive relationships.

On Junkie the 24-year-old Morissette comes at you in a rush of words. Most of the vocals were recorded in one or two takes, which gives them a confessional immediacy. Several of the songs race along without a chorus; others are chants that repeat phrases over and over as if Morissette were trying to persuade both the listener and herself to believe in what she's singing. On the CD's first single, Thank U, Morissette pays tribute to the things that have forced her to become stronger and wiser: "Thank you India/ Thank you terror/ Thank you disillusionment." On another song, That I Would Be Good, she offers a string of self-affirmations: "That I would be good even if I gained 10 pounds/ That I would be fine even if I went bankrupt..."

This is not a collection of slick hits, all ready to slide into position over the opening credits of Dawson's Creek (though one wouldn't rule that out). Jagged Little Pill was the kind of album you could listen to straight through, without having to fast-forward past any atrocious songs. But Junkie dares more and misses more--it's a more admirable album than her last but not a more listenable one. A few tunes, like the smooth Unsent, are readily agreeable. But too many, like faulty modem hookups, crackle and wail and fail to connect emotionally. Despite such flaws, it's impressive that Morissette and her talented co-producer/co-writer, Glen Ballard, had the courage to release a CD as rambunctious as this one. The follow-up to this follow-up could really be something.

--By Christopher John Farley