I never met a straight man who admitted out-right they were a fan of Ani DiFranco.

   Now, I know what you're thinking. Sexuality and sexual orientation in music are irrelevant, right? Well, they are - unless of course we're on the subject of David Bowie or Lou Reed, but we're not. So, since non-gay men typically don't listen to DiFranco, and since the person behind these words happens to like women, it's an issue. And if it's not an issue, then lets make it one.

   It's easy to see why most men are so turned off by DiFranco. Men are afraid of a woman in power, and secretly afraid of legions of empowered women. They're frightened by complex and frustrated women who strut feministic and women's-lib views in a confident and intimidating manner. And lets be honest, DiFranco's music reeks of these things, which means many of her fans do, too.

   Personally, I don't give a shit about DiFranco's feministic views, or even her fans for that matter, who tend to view her as some sort of icon and spokes-person for women's rights. (Try reading books instead you naive know-nothing bums!). I don't care about what feministic attitudes lurk in her music. I don't attach myself to these things, and I don't attempt to understand them.

   I do however admire her a great deal as an artist, her abilities as a songwriter, guitarist and poet, and her determination for maintaining total artistic integrity from her first album, 1989's Ani DiFranco, until her latest release,Knuckle Down.

   Knuckle Down is DiFranco's 13th studio release and quite possibly her most intimate, confident, and personal album to date. Take the song "Parameters," a story and lyrical masterpiece about rape and the many fears related to the subject that women struggle with. On top of a mellow rhythm which repeats itself hypnotically DiFranco sings, "Thirty-three years go by and you loosen the momentum of teenage nightmares...and you don't jump at shadows anymore." DiFranco explores her duties as a songwriter and questions her place as an artist with lines like, "You want me to tell you a story, but I'm weary of entertaining," which can be heard in the lovely "Minerva." And her insecurities in "Recoil" ring clear when she sings, "I'm just sittin' here in this sty strewn with half written songs, taking one breath at a time." DiFranco has never been this poetic.

   Prevoius albums feature signature DiFranco country melodies and a hobo-twang guitar, but never have they been so evident as they are in Knuckle Down. This could be linked to singer/songwriter Joe Henry who was co-writer of the album. Also appearing are bassist Todd Sickafoose, Julie Wolf, and fellow Righteous Babe artist Andrew Bird.

   The only thing missing from Knuckle Down, which some fans may be disappointed about, are the political themes which occupy other works. "Paradigm," an unclimatic song about growing up with two immigrant parents, is the closest DiFranco gets to addressing these sorts of things.

   It was recently written in a magazine (which shall remain nameless, but it in case you're wondering, it starts with an R) that DiFranco is "One the most intelligent songwriters in last 15 years." If this is the case, then Ani should have gone pop a long time ago. Perhaps she's never appealed to a mainstream audience; perhaps she's deliberately made efforts to not compromise her art. Take the time in 2001 when she was scheduled to perform on The Late Show with David Letterman. Producers of the show wanted her to omit the line "White people are so scared of black people" from the song "Subdivision" off of the Revelling/Reckoning album. DiFranco refused, then decided not to perform on the show. It's this type of artistic integrity that's carried her throughout her career, and this type of unconpromissing attitude which can be found everywhere in Knuckle Down. Take the song "Callous" for instance, in which DiFranco sings "You can't will yourself happy, and you can't will your cunt wet." Well, maybe not.