A friend says everyone needs one Ani record but nobody should bother with two. This discounts the achievement of the first half of DiFranco's career, when she achieved power and clarity over a half-dozen discs. That she said the same shit on each didn't matter. What did matter was that the force accumulated -- the stinging pluck-strum, the dimensions of her yowl, the effortless conflation of the personal and political. But following Dilate
which announced her as human even as she brushed something grander, DiFranco has doodled instead of striven, trying on ska bands and mood pieces and "funk" explorations good only for encouraging arrhythmic hippie dances. It's a shame that on this, the most recent of her annual releases, she says nothing new and little well. At first Knuckle Down
seems encouraging. The title track lives up to its promised retrenchment; "Studying Stones" is as gorgeous as -- and wiser than -- "Letter to a John" (from 1994's Out of Range
); and on "Manhole," her complaints lift toward a shout-along universality. A few peaks follow, but much of the rest
is morose, even featureless. It's laborious work, but it's a start. Pray that Ani '06 remembers that knuckling down is the job of the artist, not the listener.