Ani Difranco/To The Teeth
(Righteous Babe)

©Michael Koster, February 2000

With the release of her fourteenth album, it is now impossible to call the decade's most influential folksinger a folksinger. Sure, she still cranks out the protest tunes ("To The Teeth" and the beautiful "Hello Birmingham") with a righteousness that would make Pete Seeger proud and an edginess that'd make those wimps in Peter, Paul and Mary envious. And usually these lyrical protests are laid over simple yet vigorous acoustic guitar rhythms and melodies. But DiFranco's percussive strumming crested with 1995's robust Not A Pretty Girl, and over the past three studio albums, the singer has forsaken her folk roots in order to satisfy a very pronounced funk jones. Our Ms. DiFranco, for better or worse, has definitely moved on.

Like her past two discs, there's good news and there's bad news here. The bad news is that the beautiful acoustic interludes that once made up the majority of her "sound" have been reduced to mere flourishes. You'll wish there was more of that Okie banjo that runs through "The Arrival's Gate," more of those little melodic vignettes that pop up here and there. Instead you'll get a whole lot of loping grooves, many of which sound girlish and trite, and slick electronically produced atmospheric sounds like those on "Freakshow." With its squeaky chords and DiFranco's atypically whiny vocal repetition "Freakshow" earns the dubious distinction of being the singer's sole entirely annoying song-a case of an experiment that should have been left on the cutting-room floor.

The good news is that DiFranco has tapped none other than sax behemoth Maceo Parker, of James Brown and George Clinton fame. Normally, celebrity guest stars are a sure sign that an artist is getting too big for his-or in this case, her-britches and that quality is getting usurped by ego. Not so here. Parker's playful riffing on "Swing"—a constant flurry of notes that is pure joy to experience—virtually carries the tune. Even Corey Parker's embarrassing, self-indulgent, lightweight rapping at the end (if ever there was a use for your CD player's fader button, this is it) can't snuff what is an otherwise strong addition. Her "horny-est" record to date, the instruments have, in fact, become a major player in DiFranco's new mix. And for the most part, Maceo's wizardry, Brian Wolf's tuba and trumpet contributions, and New Orleans trumpeter Irvin Mayfield's jazzy runs add a fun, if loose, texture.

Even the artist who formerly had something interesting to say shows up. Prince's (damn if we'll cave in and call him that stupid non-name) vocal contributions on "Providence" fit a song that is so, well, Prince-like that you almost wonder why it's not on the unnamed one's new album instead of DiFranco's. No matter, it works.

For those who pine for DiFranco's folksinger days, you can kiss goodbye that Living In Clip babe for good. Like all artists with the potential for greatness, DiFranco has moved on to bigger and better things. Even if she hasn't quite arrived.