Lauren Hoffman Dons a Liz Phair Attitude for the Folk World

by Ed Yashinsky

While many people remember what they were doing the exact moment they found out John Lennon was killed, I can’t recall it at all. I do remember the moment of Kurt Cobain’s suicide, only because I was standing at a urinal next to the lead singer of a faux-metal hair band as he exalted in the moment. (He probably thought grunge would quickly disappear and his band might get gigs again — didn’t happen.) But for the most part, I rarely recall what I was doing when unexpected musical milestones whiz by at lightning speed.

A rare exception is the first time I heard Liz Phair’s Exile in Guyville. It arrived at my house direct from Matador Records (a very tough find in Central Pennsylvania), and was nothing like I expected. It was sparsely produced and musically mild, but it had the voyeuristic feel of sitting with Phair as she revealed some of the dirtiest little secrets. With her wry tales of wanton sex, animal lust, and shovels full of fuck-off attitude, Exile in Guyville spewed childlike melodies crossed with an irresistible in-your-face swagger that still remains one of my favorite CDs.

While the honesty that Liz Phair delivered in her song-for-song rewrite of The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street will never happen for her again, these musical epiphanies come from left field when least expected. They are rarely released on major labels (perhaps excluding Radiohead’s OK Computer), and for the most part quickly disappear only to be unearthed years later by hungry bands that wrap their vision around these fleeting inspirations. Bands like Television, Big Star, The Modern Lovers, Flying Burrito Brothers, Pere Ubu and Velvet Underground never sold many records, but it’s nearly impossible to talk to current bands that don’t take inspiration from at least a few of these groundbreaking acts.

Cut from the same honest cloth as Exile in Guyville, Lauren Hoffman’s latest release, From the Blue House, delivers stark tales of sex, anorexia, addiction, death, asinine men and loose women wrapped around sweet melodies that blur the lines of folk, jazz, and pop. While the soft-spoken Hoffman might sound like a young girl alone in her bedroom not quite sure if the world is ready to hear her intimate thoughts, she has been around the music business block.

Growing up in Charlottesville, Virginia, Hoffman hung out and played guitar with Dave Matthews, and just after high school she joined an all-female trio called September 67. While she did some demo work leading up to their 1996 debut release, Lucky Shoe, Hoffman opted for a solo release with assistance from Camper Von Beethoven/Cracker frontman David Lowery’s Pitch-A-Tent label. But Virgin Records (Pitch-A-Tent’s distributor) caught wind of Hoffman’s CD and signed her as their own little (potential) Alanis Morrissette. When Hoffman released Megiddo, she was overshadowed by Fiona Apple’s debut, Tidal; Virgin felt they were beaten to the punch (because we all know that only one angst-ridden teenager can be on the charts at one time?!), so they offered no marketing or advertising support, even though Megiddo was gathering critical praise.

At the ripe old age of 20, Hoffman had been signed to a major label, released a stellar CD, terminated her recording contract, fired her managers and returned to Virginia to lay low.

From the Blue House, on Hoffman’s own label, seems to have erased any trauma suffered during her first foray in the music world. Opening with "Heavy Scene," a soft jazz number reminiscent of the Velvet Underground’s "After Hours," Hoffman twists rhythmic poems against pipe organs, lilting harmonies and subdued guitar lines that carry throughout this release. And while this jazzy feel resurfaces, upbeat songs like "Dust off Your Dreams" and "Song for a Boy" allow Hoffman to flex her melodic muscle with a full band. But Blue House’s soul resides in a series of heartache meditations like "Rare New Disease," "Sister," "Look Like Shit" and "The Addict" that radiate an incredibly pure honesty.

Whether From the Blue House will thrust Hoffman onto the radio might not be the yardstick by which success is measured for this project. At 22, Hoffman has come back from the musical void of major labels to deliver a compelling, honest CD on her own terms. She probably won’t be selling out Madison Square Garden anytime soon, but neither is she likely to be throwing any temper tantrums on stage like Ms. Apple recently did.

(Free Union Records, P.O. Box 5781, Charlottesville, VA 22905, freeunionrecords.com)