We are failed by the Crow, but the Phair will save us.

Rock stars, especially female rock stars, tend to follow a certain path. I call it a path of decay, ymmv. We start with an angry rock star, as most rock stars begin their career. That matures somewhat, but as the rock star loses popularity (a.k.a. money), there is a shift toward pop music. A new producer, a new single with lots of airplay, and the bucks are back. After this comes a period of complacency and, unfortunately, happiness, the death knell of any rock act. So at this point the "rock star" devolves into easy listening, sappy songs of the kind we all rebelled against when our parents played them. Rock-pop-easy listening. See also Chrissie Hynde, Pat Benatar.

Sheryl Crow gained some serious traction as a rocker chick, singing with the Stones and other rock icons. Her lyrics were clever and angry, just like all good rock lyrics. Then she put out "C'mon C'mon," which had that damned Soak Up the Sun song you couldn't escape that summer, and made a ton of money. Now she's all gushy in love with Lance (who is a biker, but maybe the wrong kind at this point) and her new album, Wildflower, sounds like her grandma recorded it. I listened track by track, desperately hoping for drums or a bass line, oh please God no strings on this one! but to no avail. The whole thing sucks. And what's up with that photo with the piercing blue eyes? I thought she had green eyes. Sigh.

I said to myself, "Well, there's always hope for Liz Phair." That foul-mouthed daughter of Chicagoland went the pop direction with her last album, but it still rocked out and had songs like H.W.C. (you can guess what that stands for), proving that she's still pushing the envelope. I went to lizphair.com and found out her new album "Somebody's Miracle" just came out! Oh Happy Joyfulness! And I got it, and it was good, and all was right with the world. Thank God for you Liz, even though you're 38 and you look like you're 22 there's some deal with the Devil involved.