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Jagged Little Pill — Acoustic
Alanis Morissette
EMI, CD, Rs. 395

The raw edges have been filed smooth. The sense of urgency is missing. It's an older, wiser Alanis Morissette revisiting her turbulent past after 10 years in an acoustic version of Jagged Little Pill. The familiar songs have been dipped in experience and seasoned with the flavour of emotions recollected in tranquillity.

The title, for those who are new to her, is taken from the lyrics of "You Learn". Whether you choke, grieve, scream or bleed, your experience is a kind of medicinal pain from which you learn lessons in living. Alanis herself has obviously swallowed that jagged little pill and benefited from it, for the songs on the album capture her in a meditative mood. The point is, do you want a pensive Alanis or a pain-filled one? Do you want a jagged sound or a rounded one? The answers will help you decide whether to buy this album or not.

The perfect string arrangements (by Glen Ballard who co-wrote the music and conductor Suzie Katayama) accompanying the singer's carefully modulated voice are suited to the sentiments of a number such as the warm and restful "Head Over Feet" and the playful "Ironic". But they do not fully bring out, for example, the seething jealousy of "You Oughta Know". In the old version her voice seemed torn out of her throat; the imperfections had a direct appeal but here she seems determined to correct them. Similarly, some of you might enjoy the slow and beautiful "Hand In My Pocket" and an equal number might prefer the initial, peppier version of this light-hearted tribute to those who're young, poor and unsure but full of hope.

If you haven't yet heard Morissette, this might be a good introduction. You can belatedly discover the lyrics of this modern poet who wrote them when she was barely out of her teens. (A word of caution: her pronunciation is distorted and you'll find it hard to make out all the words without the help of the album sleeve.) She sings from her own experience, expressing herself with characteristic honesty about relationships, religion, and life in general. Many of us can relate to "Ironic":

"A traffic jam when you're already late

A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

It's meeting the man of my dreams

Then meeting his beautiful husband"

Children of over-ambitious parents would respond to "Perfect" which goes "I'll live through you, I'll make you what I never was", and ends with "We love you just the way you are... if you're perfect." In "Forgiven" she's critical of the notion of religion being foisted on people. "We all had our minds made up for us. We had to believe in something. So we did." And in "Not The Doctor" she tells the over-dependent man that she's not his mother, babysitter or idol. "See this pedestal is high and I'm afraid of heights."

"You Oughta Know" is a song meant to be screamed out by women who've been ditched and are still bruised from the fall. It starts with the deceptive politeness of the cliché "I want you to know I'm happy for you, I wish nothing but the best for you both" and rapidly gains intensity. Filled with barely concealed hurt and bitterness, it ends with "And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it."

If you discover that Alanis is the girl for you, you can go back to her later albums Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie and Under Rug Swept. But her first one, which swept her to fame, still finds a special place in the hearts of her fans.

Miss You Nights
By Cliff Richard
EMI, Two-CD set, Rs. 620

Borrowing a friend's 45 r.p.m. record of "The Young Ones" during school vacation I soaked in Cliff Richard till (I almost said "till his music came out of my ears" but then I thought better of it) his voice burned into my being like one of those iron-on transfers that our T-shirts used to sport. I thought it a beautiful, beautiful song, and teen heartthrob Donny Osmond's later version was not a patch on it.

My friend and I used to think up adjectives for crooner's voices: this one's coffee, that one's chocolate, she's truly honey, and so on. I can't quite decide where Cliff's voice belongs. Creamy mocha, perhaps.

This double-CD collection of 40 ballads has several songs familiar to the generation that sang along to "Bachelor Boy" — a number that does not find a place here perhaps because it does not meet the definition of a ballad (slow, romantic, sentimental, often telling a story). Talking of "Bachelor Boy", in today's context it sounds suspiciously gay ("happy to be a bachelor boy until my dying day").

But we're straying from the subject. CD1 contains Fifties and Sixties numbers and CD2, Seventies and Eighties; he's one of the few pop singers who remained creative over decades. Nostalgia buffs might respond only to CD1 and would be better off buying an album of Cliff's oldies than spending a fortune on a double album. I suggest you scan the titles closely. The ratio of favourite numbers to so-so or unknown ones should help you make a choice.

What about those whose knowledge of Cliff Richard is next to nothing? Don't choose him if you're only into hip-hop or metal. He's the easy listening kind. Love-struck teenagers usually gravitate towards his early numbers. He has a way of lending even happy love songs a touch of melancholy ("Twelfth of Never" and "Evergreen Tree" are telling examples). You can listen to them if you're wooing someone or mourning someone.

C.K. MEENA

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