Pitchfork

Photos by Kirstie Shanley; text by Amy Phillips

Well, that was anti-climactic. But what did I expect from Liz Phair's hometown run through her 1993 breakthrough Exile in Guyville? Some sort of epiphany about how to live my life as a twentysomething woman navigating the Chicago indie rock scene, from someone who lived that life (albeit with way more drama) 15 years ago? A train wreck?

Phair is a notoriously uneven live performer, but I'd hoped that the circumstances would deliver something memorable, at the least. In the flurry of publicity surrounding ATO's reissue of Guyville, she has played up her happiness at returning to her indie roots, free from the major label system and ready to get raw and real again. But when Phair walked on stage at the Vic Theatre wearing itty bitty leather hot pants, a matching leather vest (with bright red bra underneath), and heels so high they just might have made her stand 6'1", it was a "fuck you" to everyone who ever considered her the Girl Next Door. However, the outfit would have been fine-- great, even-- if Phair had the attitude to back it up.

Following a one word introduction ("hometown"), Phair and her band of session dudes launched into "6'1"", joylessly and workmanlike. So it continued with "Help Me Mary" and "Glory". There was little pride or swagger to her performance, no acknowledgement of the power of these amazing songs. Sure, Phair has become a more technically proficient singer and player since Guyville was first put to tape, but she gave little indication that she derived any pleasure from her increased skill. The songs certainly sounded good beefed up by the confidence of experience-- maybe an audio-only live recording would deliver more thrills. But when accompanied by the sight of Phair merely going through the motions, they fizzled on impact.

Introducing "Dance of the Seven Veils", Phair mentioned that she wished the guy she wrote the song about was in the audience, but he wasn't. (In the DVD that accompanies the Guyville reissue, Phair reveals that Nash Kato of Urge Overkill was the inspiration for much of the album.) Why didn't he show up? According to Jim DeRogatis, "None of her Chicago collaborators or muses were invited, and none showed." Why? Is the rumor true that everyone who Phair palled around with in her Wicker Park days now hates her?

There would be no juicy gossip coming from the stage, however. Phair's between-song banter was limited to a few groan-worthy Chicago jokes and references ("Why haven't the Cubs called me up to get me to sing 'God Bless America' at a game?" "North Shore versus Wicker Park, good girl versus bad girl"). But this was an easy crowd, eager to please. They laughed and clapped and cat-called regardless. At one point, Phair revealed that the guitar she held in her hands was made of parts scavenged from a guitar owned by the late Jim Ellison of beloved Chicago band Material Issue. Big cheers. (Side note: "Rocket Boy", Phair's collaboration with Material Issue from the Stealing Beauty soundtrack, is awesome. Track it down.)

But the show wasn't terrible. I can't really complain about seeing one of my favorite albums of all time performed in its entirety, even if the vibe and energy were lacking. The only truly cringe-worthy moment came with "Flower", when Phair unbuttoned the top of her vest, revealing even more of that bright red bra. But then she sang the infamously raunchy song in a completely sexless fashion, just standing there stock still. No gyrations or swivels or anything. She mostly rested her hand on her chest, as if attempting to cover up her cleavage.

When the enthusiasm of the crowd's standing ovation lured Phair back on stage, solo, for an encore, she admitted to not having practiced any other songs than what's on Guyville. So she played the same three songs she reportedly played as an encore in San Francisco the night before: "Chopsticks" from Whip-Smart, an untitled new song, and "Polyester Bride" from Whitechocolatespaceegg. Phair dedicated the new song, a scathing diss track, to the president of her former label, Capitol. It sounded halting and unfinished, but at least there were some teeth behind the bile. Phair seemed genuinely pissed off, for the first time all evening. And we all know what Liz Phair is capable of when she's angry.

Liz Phair Exile in Guyville shows:

06-25 New York, NY - Hiro Ballroom
06-26 New York, NY - Hiro Ballroom