Famed for founding and running her own record label as well as for spawning a generation of female pretenders of whom Alanis Morissette is only the most prominent, Ani DiFranco hasn't released a full- length studio record since 1996's grueling Dilate, assorted live releases and electronic collaborations notwithstanding. The surprisingly gentle Little Plastic Castle is a familiar -- although never formulaic -- return to DiFranco's trademark juggling of ska, spoken word, acoustic punk and breakneck folk.
It's her most generous, accessible record yet, even given the presence of 14-minute spoken word epics like "Pulse" (which recollects the lesser efforts of Beat Poets throughout history) and slightly clumsy King Missile/ Soul Coughing reaches like "Deep Dish." Songs like "Two Little Girls," or "Loom," on which she promises to "just try to be at least as brave as our songs" are surprisingly sentimental for someone who, it's easy to suspect, such things do not come easily.
Little Plastic Castle may favor more gracious numbers at the expense of barn burners like Dilate's classic "Untouchable Face," but DiFranco, who can still count an ability to utter lines like "Just give up/ And admit you're an asshole" with absolute aplomb as chief among her charms, has by no means gone soft. Castle, on which DiFranco contemplates love, fame, redemption, and treachery with an uncharacteristic lightness of hand, may be the finest record of her lengthy career: It is, almost certainly, the first one on which DiFranco, who could invest past records with a thundering, off-putting chilliness, is wholly likable, instead of simply admirable.
Allison Stewart
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