Ani DiFranco, Canon (Righteous Babe)

 

To some, “greatest hits” packages seem like an industry trick to bleed more money out of an artist’s fan base while trying to expand it. This may be the case, but there are exceptions, as Ani DiFranco’s Canon, a career retrospective, proves. DiFranco has always been fiercely honest and there’s no reason to believe that she would release a double disc best-of package to swindle her fans. This integrity, along with the presentation of this long-winded but exciting package, makes Canon feel like more of a documentation of DiFranco’s evolution than a cash-in.

The songs on Canon, arranged in chronological order, show DiFranco’s evolution, starting with her folk early years. DiFranco was revolutionary right off the bat, refusing to be a mere pretty songbird with an acoustic guitar. Her voice, sometimes singing, sometimes speaking, is feminine but forceful, and her guitar playing is aggressive almost to the point of violence. These factors, along with her political lyrics in songs such as “God’s Country,” reminded people in the early ’90s that big, macho rock wasn’t necessary to rage against the machine. 

As the album progresses, DiFranco’s activist persona broadens, and she begins to paint herself as a jilted lover and introspective thinker. The music follows suit, at first incorporating piano, bass and drums before exploding later on with Wurlitzers and horn sections while exploring rock, blues, and even Latin rhythms. The second disc shows her returning to politics, but with a more mature viewpoint brought on by age and her own personal Katrina experiences as shown in “Millennium Theater,” a dreamy, ambient meditation on corporate takeovers, global warming, and her beloved drowning city. 

With 36 tracks and over two hours of music, Canon is a bit of a tall order for the listener (new rule: if the Beatles can cram most of their hits onto a single disc, pretty much anyone can). This, however, just serves as further proof of DiFranco’s resolve to exist solely on her own terms. It’s her songs, her way, and as Canon proves, that’s how it’s always been.