Weekly fecal



Song-by-song responses to Exile on Main Street would’ve been a career dead end, but I’d rather be lapping up Guys Head Soup than guessing what Sheryl Crow album this is an answer to. It’s not the stinging Judas kiss to old fans that her last album was, but no miracle either. The once soul-baring Liz continues to devolve into the new chick in group analysis who won’t share. The frankest confessional here is when she masquerades as an alcoholic old man. Sure, making the car commercial sounds that keep A&R men moist requires writing some concessions, like playing footsie with Lindsay Lohan’s collaborator, yet in a bland taste test, two of biggest yawns here were written by Liz herself. File under “Fuck and Ruin.”

Serene Dominic writes about music for Metro Times. Send comments to [email protected].

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