DiFranco's tenth studio effort offers mixed genre platter

Ani DiFranco

Little Plastic Castle

Righteous Babe

Mention the name Ani at a campus like this one and flocks of fans will circle around and gush about the diva of the independent music world as if she were a demi-god. And she deserves it. It goes without saying that Ani DiFranco is the single-most successful independent rock artist in the industry. Her Righteous Babe record label has the professionality of a corporate label - minus the too-good-for-you attitude - and the songwriter's countless guest appearances, compilations and collaborations deem her an important icon in both her genre of power-female singer-songwriters, plus the larger picture of the entire rock world.

Of course, there's still quite a few of us who mispronounce her name and could care less how many fan homepages she's raking in on the Internet. (65, for the record.) That's where Little Plastic Castle comes in. This, DiFranco's 10th solo album, is her most accessible to date, which should suit those non-Ani fanatics just as well as the die-hards.

Last year's Living In Clip - a live collection of the singer's infamous national tours - touched on the most familiar aspects of the singer's repertoire: raw, fastly-strummed favorites, punchy lyrics and spoken-word anecdotes, crowds singing along in the background; more laid-back than her typical folk-rock studio efforts. This time around, however, DiFranco's voice reaches beyond the cynical New York commentary and political wise-cracks.

Something's different here. There are horns. And jazz influences. And sure, the spoken-words and angsty ballads are there, too, but they're comfortably wedged in-between a disco-energized "Deep Dish" and the almost ska-like efforts of the title track. True, many artists unsuccessfully change up their style every five years or so for good measure. But fortunately, DiFranco never painted herself into a corner in the first place, so an album as diverse as Little Plastic Castle only punctuates the singer's talent, delivering a clean hour of tightly produced tunage. In the tiny fishbowl of our world, DiFranco lures us toward our own little plastic castle in the corner, forcing us to look twice at something we see every day.