Who is liz phair dating
There are those of us who feel like our romantic travails can be summed up by a choice Stevie Nicks song, and those who don’t.“Silver Spring” will never not be my go-to karaoke song.
Listening to Exile in Guyville in full was a milestone akin to getting my driver’s license.The thought of being exiled from Guyville can be so attractive; allowing myself to be the snarkiest, least chill version of myself when I’m not getting the respect I deserve, be it from a coworker or a male friend who thinks he fully Gets It but most likely never will, is very fun and wholly freeing.I don’t care about whether some dude thinks I’m cool or not, and that Liz Phair seems not to either has always been incredibly comforting.by The Rolling Stones, the patron saints of Liberal White Dudes Who Don’t Realize They’re Just Like Every Other Dude.Mick Jagger’s songs about hubristic sexcapades found their subversive female counterpart twenty years later in Phair’s musings on cheating boyfriends, cocky boy-men, and meaningless hookups.I don’t know if I can claim that Phair was the first woman to make unglamorous music about sex, but she did, at the very least, provide me with a guide to Being an Adult Woman.
Sometimes I’m still shocked to find myself in a loving, happy relationship. I spent the majority of my adult life being alone, happily or unhappily, bitterly or less so.
Liz Phair grew up in Winnetka, Illinois, the same place my mom grew up only about a decade earlier.
Chicago’s North Shore is notoriously conservative, the perfect breeding ground for white kids who were raised in the upper crust, and then immediately became crust punks after moving to Wicker Park as young adults. Winnetka is also less than a half hour drive south from where I was in the midst of growing up when I first heard Exile and realized I wasn’t the only one who noticed the political lameness of our native land.
As the black sheep of ’90s indie rock, Liz Phair pioneered a messy, raunchy and subversive approach to sex that changed both the male-dominated musical landscape and norms for female sexuality.
Annie Fell reflects on how Phair’s debut album The cross that left-leaning cishet white men have to bear is that, no matter how liberal or radical they consider themselves, they will still probably unwittingly conduct their personal lives as members of a ruling class.
The experience of listening to Exile, and most of Phair’s subsequent albums, vacillates between feeling like I’m talking shit with my best friend, getting advice from the achingly cool older sister I wish I’d had, and eating greasy take-out alone in bed, completely self-satisfied.