Album Review | ‘whitechocolatespaceegg’ by Liz Phair
Phair hones in on a more mature sound as she widens her songwriting net on her third release.
After back-to-back releases of her landmark debut Exile in Guyville and its stellar follow-up Whipsmart, Phair continued the momentum by embarking on a solo tour in 1995 and showing the world some of the tracks she penned for her next album.
First recorded in 1996, the first iteration of what would become her third album, whitechocolatespaceegg maintained much of the edge fans were used to, albeit, with an Americana flair. Ultimately, Captial rejected this version and returned Liz to the drawing board. Working with long-time producer Brad Wood and R.E.M. collaborator Scott Litt, Phair would reinvigorate many songs for the first sessions and wrote multiple new tracks that would be folded into the final product.
“It was a dream I had while I was pregnant, where I had an album that was called Whitechocolatespaceegg. It was this really pleasant experience where I was sitting down signing autographs, like people do at book-signings. People just came drifting up to me saying how much they liked my album. I thought, ‘What a great name’… I wanted to try out all this different stuff. I had worked only with Brad (Wood) in the past and I had fallen into a music career with him. That became the whole definition of who I was, which was a surprise to me at 25. That started this journey, so I tried working with other people and eventually came around to Brad again. I just wanted to grow and see what I could do, because I didn’t know a lot when I came into this business.” — Liz Phair via The San Francisco Chronicle (1998)
The titular track, “White Chocolate Space Egg,” kaleidoscopes in a psychedelic tye-dyed dream of melting guitars. The way Scott Litt’s production swirls like a lava lamp around Phair’s raw vocals as the centerpiece is something to be experienced. Her trademark directness shines through some of the sexual undertones as we begin to surface from the honeymoon period, “Purple, yellow, reddish-brown/ Once I felt you, I couldn’t lay you down/ Don’t be shy, baby, don’t be careful with me/ Let it go, let it soak me down/ I’ll see you around/ Every hollow has its favorite sound/ Every rock and tree and leaf abound with your face/ Don’t tell me I’ve been wrong/ Don’t tell me all the magic’s gone.” Sonically, this is hands down one of my top three favorites of Phair’s. It’s sexy, mysterious, and mesmerizing all at once.
“Big Tall Man” takes us into country-rock territory as Phair puts herself in the shoes of a misogynistic white trash man. Scott Litt’s production brings to mind the roar of muscle cars and the hazy, raucous vibe of a dive bar through the raw edge of the guitars.
Liz revealed that the character she created was a part of her managing her time while pregnant:
“That was actually when I was pregnant. I was reading all these books, because you can’t drink coffee, you can’t do drugs, you can’t do anything. You are so sober it hurts. I got into this intuition book, trying to channel your deeper self and dreams and stuff, ’cause you have all these vivid dreams when you’re pregnant. The book said to channel someone and write down all these exercises. That’s sort of what writing songs to me is anyway — regurgitating some subconscious thing that surprises you. So I channeled Scott Litt, my record producer, and then I read him the little poem, and he’s like, ‘That’s your song right there.’” — Liz Phair via Time-Out New York (1998)
Phair places us in the shoes of a blue-collar man relishing his masculinity, “Fog and the distance beyond it/ Boats and the quiet morning noises/ I’m walking the shoreline/ A beer and a cigarette/ A bug with twitching antennae/ A button-up short-sleeved shirt/ Yes, I’m winning, spinning/ I feel energy bein’ pulled off from all sides/ And it feels good/ Like relieving a headache.” Her vivid description of this character, trademark low vocal timbre, and fantastic production bring this story to life.
Phair crosses over into a folk-oriented sound through the soothing calm brought on by “Perfect World.” Litt’s production only gently kisses her intricate acoustic guitar melody with the glow of a synth pad. This brief moment touches on the envious feelings we feel looking outside and wishing desperately we had the life and love that seems so perfect in our eyes, “Home is very ordinary/ I know I was born to lead a double life/ Of murderous strife and misery/ And when I find it/ I know I’ll make sense of me/ I wanna be cool, tall, vulnerable, and luscious/ I would have it all if I’d only had this much/ No need for Lucifer to fall/ If he’d learn to keep his mouth shut/ Be involved/ I would be involved with you.” Her soft-spoken approach tugs at that sense of longing.
“Johnny Feelgood” aches from the sense of sexual satisfaction we’ve received from a man who seems the polar opposite of what we need. Brad Wood works his magic, giving this slice of alternative Americana the sexy rush of an old Mustang. Phair loses all her inhibitions over how this man makes her purr, “Johnny feel good, Johnny right on/ Johnny miss you, Johnny light on/ Johnny makes me/ Feel strangely/ Good about myself…And I never met a man who was so pretty inside/ He’s got diamonds on the bed of his thumbnails/ And I never realized I was so dirty and dry/ ’Til he knocked me down/ Started dragging me around/ In the back of his convertible car/ And I liked it.” It gives all the raw honesty that Liz is known for with a delightful dash of pop flair.
The lead single and one of two Girlysound tracks to get a reinvention on the album is “Polyester Bride.” Liz breathes new life into this song, trimming much of the fat from the Girlysound original. Wood’s production keeps the soul of what made her prior albums so captivating while adding an earthy halo perfect for the height of the Lilith Fair sound.
Phair places us in front of a trusted bartender who gives us a welcomed dose of reality, “And Henry said, ‘You’re lucky you even know me/ You’re lucky to be alive/ You’re lucky to be drinking here for free/ ’Cause I’m a sucker for your lucky, pretty eyes’/And then he said/ ‘Do you want to be a polyester bride?/ Do you want to hang your head and die?/ Do you want to find alligator cowboy boots they just put on sale?/ Do you want to flap your wings and fly away from here?’” It’s honestly a shame it didn’t receive more attention, as it’s the perfect mix of pop and alternative.
Phair puts a magnifying glass to the growing cracks in a fading romance in “Love is Nothing.” Her guitar work maintains the same crunch that made “Crater Lake” (from Whipsmart) a textural delight. Liz’s production brings a mid-century pop vibe to the piece. Her phoned-in mannerisms show a woman whose domestic lifestyle has become more of a chore than a blessing, “You thought I was something from afar/ You thought I’d totally excite you/ I guess it’s just another thing/ To stand up close and ignite you/ Love is nothing, nothing, nothing/ Like they say/ You gotta pick up the little pieces everyday/ You were telling me/ The friends we have in common/ By the time I figured it out/ You were yawning.” While an interesting view on what could be seen as the constricting bindings of marriage, I can’t help but feel the other songs on the album feel stronger than this one.
“Baby Got Going” embodies the railway rhythm that seems to have gotten Phair’s character all hot and bothered. Originally composed by producer Scott Litt, Liz was immediately inspired to write something upon hearing his demo. Her cheeky nod to how the vibrations from the railway have this woman on the edge of climax works nicely alongside her tunneled vocal delivery and the driving western arrangement. “Squeeze her knees underneath a book/ You know a real good shakin is all it took/ Cause my baby’s hooked on me/ And as you can see I’m wild about her!/ She got goin’ but I can’t complain/ You know it knocks me out/ When she acts so strange/ Like a Big Mac truck cut across two lanes in my soul/ Conductor let’s/ Throw the pedal down, roll!” The song would recieve additional promotion with its inclusion in the first season of Charmed.
“Uncle Alvarez” is a cautionary tale of a man whose life never measured up to the made-up accomplishments he’s built his life on. Phair’s floral guitar work, alongside the earthy production from Brad Wood, marries so nicely with the singer/songwriter vibe the song captures. Liz details how this image of Uncle Alvarez haunts the house as a reminder of all the might-have-been that never was achieved, “He’s not really part Cherokee Indian/ He didn’t fight in the Civil War/ He’s just Eugene Isaac Alvarez/ We feel sorry for the wall/ Ho, ho, ho, imaginary accomplishments/ Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy/ You might even shake the hands of presidents/ You’re gonna make ’em sorry when you die.” This excellent use of Phair’s songwriting displays the depth of her creativity.
Liz takes on the point of view of her brother, who feels lost after emotionally harming his family in “Only Son.” Litt’s Western-leaning production drags on like listless days in the depths of sorrow. Phair paints the picture of a man broken by all the mistakes he’s made and circling the drain, “All these babies are born/ To the wrong kind of people/ And I wish I had known/ I was not good enough/ I’m the worst kind of son/ Bringing shame to my family/ And I know I have worn/ My mother’s heart out, believe me/ I saw it/ I saw it coming.” Her viewpoint is especially pained. Knowing his history of alcohol abuse, as hinted at in 2006’s “Table for One,” makes this song that much rawer.
“Go On Ahead” seems like a harbinger of demise in Phair’s marriage to her ex-husband Jim Staskauskas. I love how creamy Liz’s guitar sounds against the flowing nature of Brad’s drum machine and quiet organ. She offers a very telling look of a couple whose flame has died out just as parenthood has begun, “It’s a death in our love that has brought us here/ It’s a birth that has changed our lives/ It’s a place that I hope we’ll be leaving soon/ And I fear for the year in his eyes/ And it goes round in circles/ One night is lovely, the next is brutal/ And you and me are in/ Way over our heads with this one/ It’s hard to admit it.” The building tremor from Wood’s drum programming grants a building tension to this situation.
“Headache” mimics the monotony of a building migraine through its heavy, repetitive synth lead. Liz admits to the Illinois Entertainer that the playful genesis of the song mirrored a lot of the songwriting process for her debut:
“This one was more of an odyssey… This one was a lot like Guyville, but was even more searching, because I wasn’t really sure what I wanted. But I knew when one of the songs happened; it was [’80s-organ-laden] ‘Headache’, and I was making that with Brad, and I remember the day we made it. That feeling that we created something that was original that had kind of arrived” — Liz Phair via Illinois Entertainer (1998)
Phair sheds light on the chaotic inner workings of her mind that keep her from being tamed, “I can see the Russian Army/ Rolling through my head/ On one side of me lies the enemy/ The other half is dead… ‘Hey mister, won’t you come for me?/ I’m a psychosomatic sister running around without a leash/ You can take me home/ But I will never be your girl/ I won’t let your mystery unfurl.’” Wood’s production brings tons of character out of Liz’s storytelling. It’s a bit hypnotic.
One of the earliest teased tracks, “Ride,” displays the beginnings of Phair’s flirtation with Western vibes in her brand of alternative rock. Litt keeps a lot of alternative charm that bridges Whipsmart to Whitechocolatespaceegg, only highlighting its Americana leanings through twangy country rock guitars. Her lyricism sees us ready to rid ourselves of all our sins should tomorrow not come, “As I stumble into bed/ I curse the devil in my head/ And if I die before I wake/ I hope the Lord won’t hesitate/ To pluck my coffin from the ground/ He need not heed the neighbors now/ And throw me up for all to see/ The flies of August swarming me/ I get a ride/ Right by your side/ Under your skin/ I’m diggin’ in.” Her stance has a sense of mortality and bolsters her sense of freedom to do what you want and leave no dirt behind.
I find it incredibly surprising that the alternative meets singer/songwriter sound of “What Makes You Happy” didn’t garner status as a single. Brad Wood works his magic, giving the breezy acoustic production soar in the song’s electric chorus. Phair’s promise of a healthy, long-standing relationship doesn’t quell her mother’s fears that she’s rushing in too quickly, “I’m sending you this photograph/ I swear this one is gonna last/ And all those other bastards were only practice/ I feel the sun on my back/ I smell the earth in my skin/ I see the sky above me/ Like a full recovery… ‘Listen here young lady/ All that matters is what makes you happy/ But you leave this house knowing my opinion/ Won’t make a difference if you’re not ready.’”I love how springy the entire arrangement sounds. The track’s hook is a complete earworm made for Lilith Fair-era radio stations.
We continue nurturing the feelings of affection on the short yet dreamy “Fantasize.” To pull out the sense of dreaminess that this love has flooded Phair with, Litt populates the space with powdery guitars that hum and buzz around her main melody. Liz rejoices the sense of comfort their blossoming love has given her, “Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away/ I hear people are talking about us/ And I just have to say, I lie awake every night/ Thinking about you, I fantasize/ All around us people are changing/ Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away/ I hear people are talking about us/ He’s a special guy, kind of sentimental inside.” I like how everything is cast in a soft white glow. It sounds like that daydreamy place you fall into when first falling in love.
The second Girlysound track to get glow-up is “Shitloads of Money.” Phair brightens the song through earthy acoustic guitars and calming accordion. Whereas the original version felt like the clawing of a young person willing to do anything to be financially stable, her reinvention displays a mature look at the trappings of capitalism. Her lightness gives her cynical point of view on what brings happiness more depth, “It’s nice to be liked, but it’s better by far to get paid/ I know that most of the friends that I have/ Don’t really see it that way/ But if you could give ’em each one wish/ How much do you wanna bet?/ They’d wish success for themselves and their friends/ And that would include lots of money.” This remains a personal favorite of mine due to its songwriting and execution.
Phair closes the album with the stripped-back ode to the female teenage experience in “Girls Room.” Liz’s unfiltered electric guitar rings around you like she’s playing it in the girl’s bathroom she sings about. We reminisce about the youthful abandoned that once made these walls feel so special, “Here comes Tiffany/ My best friend Tiffany/ Wearing a size too small of sweater/ Me and Tiffany, dressing up pretty/ We love to ride, we love to canter/ My best friend Tiffany, she is so popular/ We’re going from site to site/ And pool to pool tonight.” After navigating one’s sense of self after marriage and motherhood, this moment of juvenile playfulness is a nice way to close the curtains on this project.
Whitechocolatespacegg was a nearly three-year culmination of several producers and many scrapped songs (which I highly recommend you search on YouTube for) to reach its final form.
Compared to her prior two albums, this record dresses her in a more mature light. She maintained an Americana-adjacent sound that works nicely alongside her trademark alternative style. Long-time producer Brad Wood works his magic on songs like “Johnny Feelgood”, “Polyester Bride” and “Go On Ahead” making them come alive. It’s interesting how candid Phair is regarding her struggles with marital life in “Love is Nothing” and “Go On Ahead,” which gives us a small look at how their marriage was soon to collapse three years later. Liz’s songwriting is sharper than ever. It’s a shame the album didn’t get as much airplay as its precursors because it’s a true gem. If you’re a fan of 90s alternative, do yourself a favor and give this album a listen.
My overall thoughts on Whitechocolatespacegg:
Loved it: “White Chocolate Space Egg,” “Big Tall Man,” “Perfect World,” “Johnny Feelgood,” “Polyester Bride,” “Baby Got Going,” “Uncle Alvarez,” “Only Son,” “Go On Ahead,” “Ride,” “What Makes You Happy” & “Shitloads of Money.”
Liked it: “Headache,” “Fantasize,” & “Girls Room.”
Disliked it: “Love is Nothing.”
My overall rating: 8.5 out of 10.
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