When I first learned Liz Phair went to Oberlin she suddenly became a mystery.
Most rock stars are so far from my own reality that I don't even try to consider their everyday existence. But knowing that Liz waited for the Hopkins shuttle, walked across Tappan Square and wandered through the mailroom just like me made things more complicated. Under all her powerful lyrics and sex-goddess image is she an everyday person?
Seeing Phair perform live last week took away some of the mystery that has collected around her in my mind. To see her interact on-stage with her own music and lyrics was powerful and-when she let herself go-amazing.
Taking the stage at Cleveland's Odeon in a simple black dress Phair seemed small. The girl-next-door analogy is tired but true. Being used to thinking of her in terms of her supersized image it was strange to see her as simply a woman with a guitar.
Almost as enlightening as seeing Phair perform was seeing the audience watch her. The crowd was older and more male than I would have predicted. The Oberlin students in the crowd looked out of place.
It was eye-opening to realize that Phair is not much more than a pretty face to some of her fans.
"Flower" is a perfect example. Seeing a beautiful, strong woman on stage singing "I want to fuck you like a dog/I'd take you home and make you like it" is exciting. It is what makes Liz Phair distinct from the Lilith Fair crown she is sometimes compared to.
During "Flower" and Phair's other songs that deal with obvious sexuality, it was interesting to look around at the audience. Seeing the men unable to take their eyes off her, it became clear that while Phair's blunt sexuality is, to me, a form of feminism, it is simply a turn-on to a lot of men.
The show itself wasn't your average rock concert. With no opening band Phair warmed up the crowd with a half -hour slide show set to a soundtrack of popular songs including Madonna, Lyle Lovett and-being the Obie she is-Prince.
Displayed on a big screen in front of the stage the slides were of Phair in various poses and at different ages. The photos showed several sides of the performer; some were artsy shots, some simple snapshots with her and her friends.
But the pictures that received the most attention from the audience were the topless ones. When the first one appeared a quiet cheer rumbled through the audience.
After the slides the audience was more than prepared to see the real thing. Phair took the stage with "Support System" from Whipsmart.
Phair's set, which lasted about an hour and 15 minutes, was representative of her career. Although she played a lot of the songs off her newest disc, whitechocolatespaceegg, she also played songs from her previous three releases. Making up for the years when she didn't tour at all, Phair gave a show diverse enough to please her long-time fans.
Having been told by the music media that Phair doesn't like to tour, is often stiff and off-key and has a real stage fright problem, I was surprised by how comfortable she seemed on stage. She seemed to enjoy herself and although she wasn't chatty, she did talk a little.
Included in her banter was Phair's obligatory reference to Oberlin. "Flying into the airport was strange. It reminded me of waiting with all my stuff to go to school ...," she said, cut off by screams from the crowd.
After a few moments of cheering, Phair went on to talk about Oberlin's motto: "Learning and Labor."
"That is pretty scary when you first get there: 'Learning and Labor,'" she said. "It was more like 'Drinking and Smoking.' " More cheers.
But that ended the Oberlin portion of the show, and Phair went on to do what she does best-sing.
While the whole concert was good, the highlights came when Phair let her guard down enough to expose more of herself through her music.
After an energized version of "Johnny Feelgood," off her new album, Phair continued in the Johnny theme to sing "Dance of the Seven Veils." She put down her guitar to mime along with her singing, making it a surprise highlight of the show.
Phair played her "hits" as well: "Fuck and Run," "Divorce Song" and "Polyester Bride." Although these were good they sounded a lot like the recorded versions. The best songs of the evening were the ones the whole audience couldn't sing along to.
Seeing Liz Phair perform live was interesting in itself, but most interesting in its context. The audience's reactions, as well as Phair's own interaction with them, were telling. Clearly Phair still teeters on the edge between being a powerful, independent musician and an objectified pretty face who can sort of sing.
The Phairest of them all would be an Oberlin grad, right? Phair's style graced Cleveland last week.
Copyright © 1998, The Oberlin Review.
Volume 127, Number 7, October 30, 1998
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