On Liz Phair's Exile In Guyville

Since releasing the follow up to Exile in Guyville, Liz Phair’s musical output has steadily worsened, culminating in this year’s unlistenably terrible Funstyle. However, cut back to 1993 or 1994 and, due to this release, Liz Phair is one of the freshest and most acclaimed artists seeping into the public consciousness. At a time when rock music was an entirely macho scene, dominated by north-American arena-filling behemoths such as Nirvana and Pearl Jam, Phair’s appealing substitute for the loud-quiet-loud dynamic was the alternative that many were looking for. Whilst reading the tracklist might fool the listener into thinking they had bought a punk album (18 tracks fly by in just 55 minutes), Exile is unashamedly melodic, a none-too-distant relative of today’s twee indie scene; guitars chime and ring out basic but interesting lines and not a spot of distortion is to be found. Liz Phair had almost invented Belle & Sebastian three years in advance. 
Whilst the tunes might almost fall into the category of sunshine-pop, the lyrics do anything but; a scathing dialogue on feminism and modern sexual politics, Phair is one minute a doe-eyed picture of loveliness and the next a hardened cynic (“And whatever happened to a boyfriend, 
the kind of guy who makes love 'cause he's in it?” she sings on Fuck and Run). These 18 vignettes into the love and social life of a modern 20-something are as relevant today as they were 17 years ago. 
Phair’s thoroughly listenable, well written and well produced album has been the template for many conscious female artists since. It can only be hoped that one day, Phair moves away from the world of novelty albums and returns to excellent songwriting.