By SONYA M. LAI

contributing writer

Alanis Morisette is no stranger to public revelations of her intimate thoughts and secrets. For her previous major release of new material, Morisette, brimming with newfound “spirituality,” exposed herself nude on the subway in her video. Since then, she has struggled to cast aside the stereotypes from her “angry female rocker” days. Supposed Former Infatuated Junkie, her sophomore release, was a tense, confessional album, more do-it-yourself therapy for Morisette than entertainment for fans impatiently awaiting the fury of “You Oughta Know,” Part II. To her credit, Morisette had moved on. Her confrontations with herself and various ex-lovers led to an unsettling solace on Junkie that brought out the psychoanalyst in all of us.

Her new album, Under Rug Swept, finds Morisette having a bit more fun singing about herself. But unlike the angry blowjob revelations of Jagged Little Pill, she has now earned her precociousness. She sings because she wants to, not because Maverick executives or turbid thoughts force her to. Hence, the dark undertones and intensity of the lyrics do not muddle nor overwhelm the buoyancy present in her vocals.

The girl who grew up too fast is jumping off the shrink’s couch and expressing with clarity born of self-exploration exactly what she wants. She pinpoints the “21 Things I Want in a Lover,” underscoring her wishlist with a dictatorial drumbeat and distorted guitars courtesy of ex-Red Hot Chili Pepper Dave Navarro. Meet Alanis Morisette the empowered woman instead of the confused post-teenager.

Absent from the album’s mix is renowned überproducer Glen Ballard, who co-authored much of Dave Matthews last album, as well as most of the material on Morisette’s previous two albums. This time Morisette is fully dressed and alive in psychedelic technicolor, for the first time singing songs written solely by her. There’s more irony in many of these songs than there ever was in 1996’s hit “Ironic.”

Her rants are still as loquacious as ever, but carefully, rationally edited down. Although she criticizes self-absorption in “Narcissus,” Morisette is the very picture of the self-centered diva. “So Unsexy,” the most poignant track, is a gorgeous watercolor of the new Alanis Morissette. In 1995 screeches and finger-pointing would have dominated, while in 1998 she projected a self-reflective Zen mentality. However, 2002’s Under Rug Swept brings her inner conflict to a conscious level where Morisette herself can contemplate the ironies of being both arrogant and insecure. Further delving into Under’s ironies is “You Owe Me Nothing in Return,” in which Morissette attempts to depict an ideal love. The song weaves its melody with a voluble, fluid grace that tries to deny the cynicism of her previous material. Whether she is serious, one will never know, but the lighthearted density of the lyrics—“I give you thanks for receiving it’s my privilege/ And you owe me nothing in return”—suggests paradoxes on all planes.

Morisette’s sundry neuroses are still in evidence, but they no longer consume her. She’s no longer enraged by betrayal, and doesn not indulge quite so much in her unrelenting stream of consciousness. She cheerily muses over the track “Surrending,” and is thoughtfully contemplative on the gypsy-tinged “Utopia.” She no longer relies on the disillusionment of a leftover grunge-bittered generation. She is ready and willing to take responsibility for her actions. While in Dogma she was cast as God, in Under Rug Swept, she plays man: “I have been blamed / And I have repented / I’m working my way toward our union mended” on “A Man.” On one level, she addresses the “archaic reputation” burdening the relationship between man and woman. Yet on a deeper level, this is Morissette’s confession of being too harsh with her blame, and her desire to mend her relationship with humankind, and herself.

Alanis Morissette, if she were to be characterized as anything, is a work in progress. Pieces of her teenage angst and burning heartache remain, but she continues to grow. Still as shamelessly self-obsessed as always, she no longer considers herself entirely guiltless. It is now OK to sweep some things under the rug. Under Rug Swept succeeds as a compelling work of pop, recalling an era in which entertainment and introspection were not always kept separate. For all the annoyance that is Alanis Morissette: that whiny, nasally voice, verbosity, and self-absorption, she’s sure to remain a treasure. Refusing the glossed-over airbrushing of the day, she is an artist who stays refreshingly true to her idiosyncrasies.

music

Under Rug Swept

Alanis Morissette

Maverick