[rating=4]
Despite the incessant laundry-lists, the muddled syntax, a penchant for accented syllables on words like belovèd and other such grammatical and linguistic idiosyncrasies, Alanis Morissette has actually amassed a fairly distinguished lyrics catalogue, offering up psychoanalyses that many like to label as “Psych 101” but are in fact quite thoughtful ruminations on life, love and the human condition. And, although it’s become indie chic to deride Morissette’s career because of the Canadian, quirky voiced and angry-young-woman stereotypes, she has fairly consistently released albums that are actually quite fantastic, rich and significant contributions to the pop/rock vernacular.
Puzzling– or exasperating, even– then is the release of her eighth studio album, Havoc and Bright Lights. This is her first offering since 1995 that hasn’t been through Maverick Records, and so early postulations were made that an indie approach to distribution may in fact reinvigorate her more middle-of-the-road pop leanings of the last decade. Additionally, 2008’s Flavors of Entanglement seemed a big step in the right direction, where her collaboration with electronic master Guy Sigsworth opened up new aural explorations, merged with her emotional processing of a major breakup (a certain mister Ryan Reynolds, whom she dated for four years), and in general her embrace of dance beats and willingness to open herself up to raw anger again produced an album that remains critically underrated.
It’s important to mention these highlights, because in the continual wake of Jagged Little Pill’s success critics and listeners alike seem to forget that Morissette has made quite the impact on women in rock, and music in general. Rescuing her from the onslaught of less-than-flattering caricatures may seem a slightly extraneous effort, and in some ways self-indulgent, but sometimes fighting the apathy toward major outspoken 90s female singer-songwriters in today’s shoegaze/EDM world is a worthwhile task… which is made significantly more difficult when that artist you’re championing releases something as dull, lifeless and insipid as Havoc and Bright Lights.
First off, Havoc is far too schizophrenic in its sequencing. Opening track “Guardian,” in its 4/4 power-pop guitar riff-heavy rocker style is typical Alanis Morissette of the last 10 years, which is why it makes sense that it joins “Everything” and “Underneath” as Havoc’s lead single. But then the album dives into the hard-edged rock and slight electronic flair of “Woman Down,” which feels like it’s so close to being an actually great song, but instead it’s plagued with oddly nasal vocals (much more so than usual), uneven balancing and words like “lady haters” in the chorus. Then we are swaddled into the hushed romantic ballad “‘Til You,” which fits into the aesthetic of songs like “That I Would Be Good,” “Simple Together” and “That Particular Time,” except for the fact that those three are all brilliant examples of Morissette’s strong hand at ballad writing, and “‘Til You” is a bland attempt at engaging… someone? Really, it’s hard to even tell what the song’s about, because the hypnotic “oohs” of the chorus belie any substance that might anchor the track.
Then we’re back into the Eastern-tinged hard anger rock with “Celebrity,” which is– you guessed it– an indictment of modern-day celebrity-obsessed culture. It’s a brief moment on Havoc in which Morissette really loses touch with her own voice, and offers hackneyed verses about Hollywood and the industry (while namechecking Gucci!) that just seek to annoy.
But, if you can wade through these first four tracks, you’ll find there are some moments on the second half of the record that actually speak to Morissette’s strengths and give a glimpse at what Havoc could have been. “Lens” is classic Alanis, even harking back to Jagged Little Pill days, with smart lyrics, a great hook and fantastic singing. “Spiral” may be relegated to “guilty pleasure” status in posterity, but it’s an incredibly catchy track whose melody is one of the best she’s written since the 90s. “Numb” and “Edge of Evolution” do a good job at capturing Morissette’s love of the epic and the cinematic, and the former actually hits well on the hard-rock sound that she did so well with on “Baba” and “Forgiven.” And lastly, “Receive” is, despite it’s awkward lyrics, a lovely sing-a-long and has some nice production, and most of all she sounds contented and happy. Be sure to skip “Havoc” and “Win and Win” completely, though– they’re two of the worst songs she’s ever put to tape.
This may be splitting hairs, too, but Havoc and Bright Lights continues the trend in which Morissette takes some of the best songs from an album’s era and uses them as b-sides/bonus tracks, rather than construct eleven or twelve songs that make a truly great album. Starting with Under Rug Swept, “Symptoms,” “Simple Together,” “Sister Blister” and “Offer” all were magnificent pieces (most found homes on 2003’s Feast On Scraps– a b-sides collection), then there was the 2004 Vancouver Sessions, which featured acoustic reworkings of So-Called Chaos tracks, then with Flavors of Entanglement she kept “Madness,” “Orchid,” “The Guy Who Leaves,” “Break” and “20/20” off the album. Now, with Havoc, there are some truly gruesomely terrible bonus tracks (“Guru” and “Jekyll and Hyde” in particular), but then there’s “No,” “Tantra,” and “Big Sur,” which are better than the majority of Havoc and Bright Lights. So, rather than get a cohesive, compelling and strong record, it’s spread across way too many formats and the main package is a jumbled mess.
There are definite flashes of Alanis Morissette’s sharp wit and adept song-writing hand on Havoc and Bright Lights, and those highs are enjoyable and worth relishing. But, the many, many lows, misguided decisions, awkward vocals, derivative lyrics and unimaginative production all make the album a really trying effort, and one that quickly becomes tedious and enervating. A true miss from an artist that has definitely been way more consistently impressive than not.
