Diva DiFranco returns for revitalization

Tuesday's Finney show promises defiant enigma

Finally relieving the past months' pre-concert hype, the most talked about independent artist of the feminist-angst era makes her way to Oberlin for a second time. Displaying a style of music so unique, a just categorization has yet to pin down its limits. Her live show is said to be phenomenal, honest and unforgettable, yet her on-stage modesty would tell you otherwise.

For most, it's hard to explain just what makes this one-woman machine of unvarnished truths so gosh-darn crafty. Is it her revitalizing lyrics of undeniable confidence? Or does it have something to do with the way she can so effortlessly carry on such amazing guitar moves on stage, each as complex as they are individual? Perhaps the enigma will never be solved, but our curiosity lures us to take a closer listen, and on Tuesday, to experience the action live.

The action started early on for DiFranco. She has already proven herself a diva in the business world with the Righteous Babe record label, which she started at just 20 years of age as an alternative to the constraints of major label chains. What started off as a simple $50 business permit has grown into a successful, full-fledged company, fronted by the musician and a working staff.

Proving herself an open-minded CEO, DiFranco recently led the label into signing its second artist: traveling singer, songwriter and storyteller extraordinare, Utah Phillips. His first Righteous Babe release, in collaboration with DiFranco's musical touch, comes out the day of her Finney Chapel appearance. The Past Didn't Go Anywhere is a joint effort, combining the artist's bending, funky rhythms and jazz patterns around the steady, patient spoken word.

As with DiFranco's solo albums, an indescribable sound is the result of the duo's work. "Political Satire for the Rave Generation" is Righteous Babe's self-dubbed description, but to less critical ears, the album floats easier as laid-back narration with an Ani soundtrack. Brilliant, yes, but expect nothing less from two such distinct voices of their respective generations. The magic which takes place mixes the angst of a '90s feminist icon with that of a gentle traveling folk singer going on 62 is shown as they break the mold with flying colors.

So just what should be expected of DiFranco's second Oberlin performance? Judging from even impressions from past years, "great" hardly does the artist justice. Her words are projected with straight-forward honesty to her audiences, sticking like permanent suction cups in their brains, long after she has left for the next gig.

As vigorously as her hand spasms across those strings, leaving her big acoustic gasping for breath, she can take a turn, just like that, manipulating her voice into an innocent, touching medium for voicing mistaken emotion and self-inflicted isolation. Either way, she'll hook you-lyric to chord, improv to riff-until you eventually give in, and declare that you can't get enough.

For proof, trek over to the Co-Op and pick up any number of DiFranco's eight releases, the most recent being this year's Dilate. Each are as self-indulging, musically, as they are survivors' guides for living confidently and independently. Or, for half the price of a CD, seize the moment and experience DiFranco live.

Righteous Babe: Ani DiFranco and Utah Philips work on recordings.