AMG Review of Exile in Guyville [Deluxe Edition]

Stephen Thomas Erlewine
All Music Guide

If Exile in Guyville is shockingly assured and fully formed for a debut album, there are a number of reasons why. Most prominent of these is that many of the songs were initially essayed on Liz Phair's homemade cassette Girlysound, which means that the songs are essentially the cream of the crop from an exceptionally talented songwriter. Second, there's its structure, infamously patterned after the Stones' Exile on Main St., but not the song-by-song response Phair promoted it as. (Just try to match the albums up: is the "blow-job queen" fantasy of "Flower" really the answer to the painful elegy "Let It Loose"?) Then, most notably, there's Phair and producer Brad Wood's deft studio skills, bringing a variety of textures and moods to a basic, lo-fi production. There is as much hard rock as there are eerie solo piano pieces, and there's everything in between from unadulterated power pop, winking art rock, folk songs, and classic indie rock. Then, there are Phair's songs themselves. At the time, her gleefully profane, clever lyrics received endless attention (there's nothing that rock critics love more than a girl who plays into their geek fantasies, even -- or maybe especially -- if she's mocking them), but years later, what still astounds is the depth of the writing, how her music matches her clear-eyed, vivid words, whether it's on the self-loathing "Fuck and Run," the evocative mood piece "Stratford-on-Guy," or the swaggering breakup anthem "6'1"," or how she nails the dissolution of a long-term relationship on "The Divorce Song." Each of these 18 songs maintains this high level of quality, showcasing a singer/songwriter of immense imagination, musically and lyrically. If she never equaled this record, well, few could. [The 2008 deluxe edition features three "unreleased B-sides": "Ant in Alaska," an acoustic, six-minute song that shares the clarity and honesty of the album's tracks, but not their focus; "Instrumental," a darker piece similar to "Shatter" or "Explain It to Me," minus the vocals; and "Say You," a reverb-drenched fake reggae novelty, complete with lazy sax solos. The real reason this reissue can be called deluxe is the documentary on its DVD, which works as a reunion of Chicago's indie rock luminaries from the '90s as much as it explores the making of Exile in Guyville and its impact on everyone involved. Interviews with producer Brad Wood, John Cusack, Steve Albini, Chris Brokaw, Ira Glass, Matador's Gerard Cosloy, and Urge Overkill's Blackie Onassis and Nash Kato are in-depth, rewarding, and revealing, offering surprises even to fans who are well-versed in Chicago's, and Phair's, mythology when Guyville was released.]