It's remarkable that
Alanis Morissette's
Jagged Little Pill struck a sympathetic chord with millions of listeners, because it's so doggedly, determinedly insular. This, after all, plays like an emotional purging, prompted by a bitter relationship -- and, according to all the lyrical hints, that's likely a record executive who took advantage of a young
Alanis. She never disguises her outright rage and disgust, whether it's the vengeful wrath of "You Oughta Know" or telling him "you scan the credits for your name and wonder why it's not there." This is such insider information that it's hard to believe that millions of listeners not just bought it, but embraced it, turning
Morissette into a mid-'90s phenomenon. Perhaps it was the individuality that made it appealing, since its specificity lent it genuineness -- and, even if this is clearly an attempt to embrace the "women in rock" movement in alterna-rock,
Morissette's intentions are genuine. Often, it seems like
Glen Ballard's pop inclinations fight against
Morissette's exorcisms, as her bitter diary entries are given a pop gloss that gives them entry to the pop charts. What's all the more remarkable is that
Morissette isn't a particularly good singer, stretching the limits of pitch and credibility with her octave-skipping caterwauling. At its core, this is the work of an ambitious but sophomoric 19-year-old, once burned by love, but still willing to open her heart a second time. All of this adds up to a record that's surprisingly effective, an utterly fascinating exploration of a young woman's psyche. As slick as the music is, the lyrics are unvarnished and
Morissette unflinchingly explores emotions so common, most people would be ashamed to articulate them. This doesn't make
Jagged Little Pill great, but it does make it a fascinating record -- a phenomenon that's intensely personal. [Released for the 20th Anniversary of
Alanis Morissette's breakthrough, the
Jagged Little Pill Collector's Edition comprises four discs, three of which offer renditions of the 1995 album. That original record is here in a robust new remastering, and there's also the 2005
Jagged Little Pill Acoustic -- released on the tenth anniversary of the record -- and then there's a London concert from September 28, 1995, recorded just as the album started to gain momentum. The concert is muscular, and heavier than the record -- particularly in the guitars -- that gives the songs a bit of nervy energy but also highlights the contributions of producer
Glen Ballard, whose presence is also missed on many of the muted, meditative demos that fill the second disc. Consisting entirely of unreleased songs recorded during the
Jagged Little Pill era, this disc is the gem of the box even if the songs are something of a mixed bag, with the quieter numbers ("The Bottom Line," "Closer Than You Might Believe," and especially the minor-key march "No Avalon") pointing toward
Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie, while the cloistered, noisier "King of Intimidation" and "Death of Cinderella" feel like respectable
JPL B-sides that never were. For hardcore
Morissette fans, that's enough to make this anniversary worth celebrating.] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine