I've always been something of a fan of the shy, bookish pixie with the gossamer tongue,once upon a time she even had a way with writing a song. Just look at that inviting cover, this has got to be tasty stuff, right? Wrong. Maybe too many chefs in the kitchen, or something, but there's not a pastry on this platter that you don't have to force down. It's really just unbelievably antiseptic and lifeless. It's as though by trying to fit into someone else's recipe (most notably Juliana Hatfield, Alanis, even the Go Go's) she's really lost her identity as an artist that unique thing that made you root for her years ago. If you'll pardon the obvious pun, it's as though she underwent a Lisa Loeb-otomy.

There isn't a single interesting musical idea on this record. In fact if you were to put it on and not tell me who it wasI wouldn't have been able to call it. And I'm good!