Alanis Morissette kicked off her worldwide tour right here in New Orleans in support of her new release, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. The album, released on Madonna’s Maverick label, is already enjoying massive radio play and an outrageous amount of hype. Morissette seems to be one of those musicians one either loves or hates, but the audience she attracts has no age range to pigeon-hole her appeal. Fans from the ages of ten to mid-forties crowded into U.N.O.’s Lakefront Arena to see her performance. The attire ranged from Polo shirts to baby tees and the occasional standard, black concert shirt.
Morissette’s band took the stage at approximately 9 p.m following a moderately entertaining set by folk-rocker, Liz Phair. (Phair’s band was allotted a measly half-hour in which to perform and, sadly, only started to cook during the last song). The headliner’s band preceded her onto the stage amid a backdrop of paisleys and tie-dye banners.
The stage-lights flashed primary colors onto the set alternating hot and cool. The introductory music carried a heavy
Eastem influence, reminiscent of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir.” These influences, which carried throughout the set, were possibly picked up by the rocker on her recent trip through India, and conveyed dominantly into her music.
Morissette spun onto the stage with a fury five minutes into the jam, and the energy was on.
Dressed in a long, paisley dress, baggy pants and running shoes, with hair trailing down her back in an offset ponytail, she danced the dance of a traumatized child-staggering over the stage, arms out of control and hands flapping. This powerful imagery was only enhanced by her strong’ vocals which jarred with the child-like visuals.
Her voice stayed true through most of the set; and when it warbled, she used it expressively. She sang with such force and facial movement that it appeared as though she were constantly agreeing with herself. Her subjects ranged from rejection, to lost love, to Alanis’ trademark: simile-infused, life introspection rock.
During portions of the set, generally during songs which had heavy (to the point of overkill) radio play, Morissette’s energy lapsed. Fortunately, her band recognized this and pumped up their own enthusiasm to counteract the loss.
The music and the singer’s vocals complimented each other well, except in some isolated cases where the guitar work was almost intrusive and competitive. This was distracting, but thankfully short-lived. Alanis’ appreciation of her backing musicians was touching and commendable. When not being chased around by a (no doubt weary and plagued) spotlight operator, she stood off to the side of the stage singing while her band took the limelight. She applauded them often, and gave them the last five minutes of the set to jam on their own and powerfully close out the show.
Highlights of the set were Alanis’ heart-wrenching “Uninvited”, her breathy, urgent harmonica work on “Hand In My Pocket,” and the creepy way that the crowd followed her antics in an Alanis-controlled wave.
