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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Phair Play Just When It Looked Like Singer Liz Phair Was Poised On The Brink Of Mega-Stardom, She Instinctively Stepped Back

Robert Hilburn Los Angeles Times

Like her music, Liz Phair is smart and seductive - someone who entered the pop world in 1993 with such revolutionary freshness, vision and craft that it was no wonder she turned critics and rock hipsters on their ear.

On her debut album, “Exile in Guyville,” Phair gave us marvelously designed looks at sexual politics and the mating game - songs that teased and taunted with lustful daydreams and sweet innocence.

The collection was a song-by-song response to the male rock swagger of the Rolling Stones’ classic “Exile on Main Street,” employing explicit language that makes even Mick Jagger sexual overtures seem tame.

But Phair’s music was more than the occasional F-word or sassy putdown. There were also moments of tenderness and insight. At one point, she asked:

Whatever happened to a boyfriend

The kind of guy who makes love

Because he’s in it.

When “Guyville” was named the album of the year (over releases by Nirvana, U2 and Pearl Jam) in the Village Voice poll of the nation’s pop critics, industry insiders expected her to emerge in 1994 as a major commercial force.

The buzz was so strong that Phair made the cover of Rolling Stone magazine when her second album, “Whip-Smart” was released last year. Reviews again were glowing, and her fall tour loomed as one of the year’s most anticipated events.

So, why didn’t “Whip-Smart” burst into the commercial Top 10? The album has ended up selling about 275,000 copies, only slightly more than the debut.

One reason: Phair deliberately deescalated her career - partly out of stage fright and partly out of fear that she was being caught up in a rock ‘n’ roll machinery that was threatening her art and well-being. She canceled the tour and pretty much withdrew from sight. It was an audacious move - yet typical of her strong will.

Phair, 27, was adopted at birth and raised in Winnetka, a wealthy Chicago suburb. Her father is chief of infectious disease at Northwestern Memorial Hospital; her mother teaches a class for gifted children at the Art Institute of Chicago.

Planning to be an artist, Phair studied art at Oberlin College. She wrote songs as a private passion, rarely showing them to anyone, even family or friends. After encouragement from a musician friend, she finally made a tape of her songs in 1992 - and it led to a contract with Matador Records.

Now that she has had time off, Phair is preparing to return to the rock world with a brief solo tour next month. She’s also planning to be married this spring to Jim Staskauskas, a Chicago film editor.

In a pair of interviews in recent weeks, Phair was enthusiastic and upbeat as she spoke about her music.

Q: What were you like in school - a popular kid or mostly shy and alone?

A: Not either. I was definitely not shy but was very shy when it came to particular situations - namely that of being a show person. I was voted to star in my fourth-grade play, and that’s the last time I ever went near the theater because it was so incredibly intimidating.

Q: Why’s that? You seem so assured and quick on your feet.

A: It just depends on the situation. That is the irony. Most people who know me think I love the attention, that I am the drama queen - and I do love attention in a small group where you can be spontaneous and react to people. Onstage, though, there is a prescribed agenda, and that kind of structure just bothers me. But I am going to have to deal with it. There is no way to get out of it. It’s part of my job.

Q: What part of your job do you like?

A: I just want to make records, make videos, make the artwork for the records and occasionally perform in my hometown. That would be my ideal. I prefer to be reclusive and private about my creation and then, once I’m finished, present it to people: “Here is my work. Now you can critique it and do what you want.” The thing I don’t like about doing shows and the media is that you are, in a sense, selling yourself - selling your life and your beliefs, as opposed to selling your music.

Q: Have you been tempted to simply run away from it all?

A: Absolutely. I’ve only been in this for about three years, and it has happened a number of times - always around performances. That’s why I canceled the last tour. I was sick of the anticipation and the dread.

Q: But you haven’t disappeared altogether. What stopped you?

A: I don’t think I’d respect myself for that. I’ve done that before in my life. That’s usually my response when things get too intense.

Q: What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t canceled the tour?

A: I would have been busy as hell, and I don’t think I would have come out very nicely on the other end. I wasn’t comfortable with the whole lifestyle … the traveling … the temptation to party every night because you are trying to connect with people who want to get to know you. But there is no connection, and there is no time to make one. A lot of that lifestyle is why people turn to drugs and stuff.

Q: Did you listen a lot to music growing up?

A: Oh sure, but I was a radio listener, never a collector. I don’t care where the bands came from or what ground they broke. I just like a good song. That’s why today I like an asinine song as rapidly as I like a really well-crafted one. I just like songs that fill an emotional need that I have at that moment. The first R.E.M. album, for instance, was the soundtrack for one summer, and I’m sure it influenced how I felt. My goal is to do that - make soundtracks for periods in people’s lives.