Morissette, Alanis : Under Rug Swept

Earnest but rubbish...

Last time round it was ‘Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie’; now it’s

‘Under Rug Swept’. When you’re a creative spirit, yearning and striving to be healed and

empowered through life experience, syntax is obviously just another sign of


The idea that mining your psyche instantly makes you a fascinating

person is one of the greatest misapprehensions left over from last

century. This record moves way beyond armchair psychology – in fact,

there are armchairs that have a cannier grasp of the mind. It could send the sensitive on a

nailgun rampage round Waterstone’s self-help section.

Musically, it often sounds like REM‘s ‘Me In Honey’ – hardly a great

moment in pop history – played at different speeds, overwrought folk-

rock like ‘Surrendering’ and ‘Hands Clean’ destined for a thousand

organic juice bars. Lyrically, it’s often hilarious.

Ultimately, you really have to wonder – about her success, about the music

industry, about the record-buying public. But never, ever about Alanis

herself. Because, for all her earnest efforts, ‘Under Rug Swept’ a

tedious album is.

Victoria Segal