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Liz Phair reflects on 30 years of 'Exile in Guyville'

Liz Phair performs at Metro on January 22, 2011 in Chicago, Illinois.
Liz Phair performs at Metro on January 22, 2011 in Chicago, Illinois. Lyle A. Waisman/Getty Images
  Play Now [22:15]

November 17, 2023

This year, we've been talking album anniversaries quite a bit, whether it be an anniversary tour, an album reissue, or just a celebration of an artist's catalog.

An album that turned 30 this summer, back in June, is Liz Phair's Exile in Guyville. That record was released on June 22, 1993, and the celebration tour for Exile in Guyville is kicking off soon; in fact, it's coming to the Palace Theatre in St. Paul on November 17. The Current’s Jill Riley connected with Liz Phair to talk about the album then and now, and the tour that is celebrating it. Listen to the complete interview above, and read a transcript below.

Photo of a woman looking up with her mouth agape
'Exile in Guyville' is the debut studio album by singer-songwriter Liz Phair. It released on June 22, 1993.
Matador Records

Interview Transcript

Edited for time and clarity.

Jill Riley: You are listening to The Current. I'm Jill Riley. Well, Liz Phair is here on The Current's Morning Show. Hi, how are you?

Liz Phair: I'm great. Jill, how are you?

Jill Riley: I'm great. It's so nice to meet you. I'm sure you've heard this before, you know, this is a meaningful record for a lot of people, especially for a lot of women. I wasn't introduced to this record really in full until I was in my early 20s. But I think that was the perfect time to hear the record and relate to the record. So Liz, I wonder, you know, with the album, you know, just turning 30, you've likely been reflecting quite a bit. I wonder if you could kind of take us back to when you were writing the songs. I mean, where were you at? Take us back to Guyville, if you would.

Liz Phair: Take you back to Guyville... All right, well, I'm gonna have to dress us in some pretty stompy boots and some vintage dresses. And maybe like some sweaters that we can cut our own holes, our own thumb holes in, so we can hold them down over our hands!

I did make it in my early 20s, so it's not surprising that you vibe with that, because that's what it was really all about, that period between college and childhood, if you will, and adulthood. And I really, as an artist, didn't want to take on the whole corporate job thing. But my parents were pretty fed up with my wayward ways, so it was fish or cut bait, basically. And I was living downtown in Chicago in this little neighborhood called Wicker Park. You know, a lot of artists have come out of there now, but this was still sort of post punk, and it was a neighborhood in transition, and it really was like a mecca for artists and writers and musicians. And we had a kind of little world away from the world. It was cutthroat in its own way, because everybody wanted to, you know, get into the business of indie rock.

Aerial view of a busy corner in an urban area
View of the Flat Iron Arts Building at the corner of North and Milwaukee Avenues in the Wicker Park neighborhood of Chicago, Dec. 16, 2010.
David Hilowitz (CC BY-2.0)

Jill Riley: So Liz, I have a question about even that term "indie rock," because that phrase, I think, depending on maybe the decade or the time period, or the music generation, indie rock means something different now than it did in the mid aughts, than it did in the 90s. So what did indie rock really mean at that time?

Liz Phair: You know, I think that back then we referred to it mostly as "alternative." I think "indie" kind of came up later, and what that meant was independent labels as opposed to major labels. So a lot of people in the mid '90s, especially in the neighborhood that I was coming up in, had their own labels. So like a guy in an apartment would literally have stacks of CDs that he would be responsible for shipping out by hand to all the fans. And this was the era of fanzines, when you would actually Xerox little pamphlets about the music you love, and write kind of either scathing reviews or like funny, weird stuff, and staple it and deliver it to like coffee shops and stores. So what it really meant, "indie" really meant, was we were doing in ourselves. It was like a post-punk DIY aesthetic.

Jill Riley: Yeah, it was a way of doing it, a way of making the music and getting it out there. I'm on the line with Liz Phair; we are talking about Exile in Guyville 30th anniversary, and going back to that time of when the songs started to come together when Liz was in Chicago, making music. So Liz, now you started making music under the name Girly Sound. So then how did you start to get your music out? I mean, how were your tapes getting passed around?

Liz Phair: Well, you know, in retrospect, I think that I was an early bedroom-pop pioneer, actually. I think I might have been mislabeled. Or you know, I was in a different scene than I actually was as an artist, and I had gone to a school, Oberlin College in Ohio, it's a school that has both a liberal arts side and a music conservatory side, very seriously, super-trained, very organized, you know, students who were serious about becoming orchestral musicians. So we had that on campus, but then you had the scruffy-haired slacker people like me that were taking humanities classes. And everybody had a band because of this. And so I saw people who were not that good getting up on stage and just thrashing it out. So it gave me kind of permission — I'd taken piano, I'd taken guitar, but I wanted to write my own music, I wanted to express myself. So I think that was what enabled me to have the courage. I was not a performer. I was a shy person in terms of performance. So it was just a spirit of, "If you have something to say, get up there and do it."

An aerial view of a college campus and distant landscape in Ohio
Oberlin College is a private liberal arts college and conservatory of music in Oberlin, Ohio, founded in 1833.
William Bradford

Jill Riley: Now, the songs on Exile in Guyville, the songs that ended up on the record in the form that we know them, would you consider yourself someone who draws from their own experiences? Or do you tell stories? I mean, are you telling the stories of other people? Because to a certain population — women, I think — there is something so relatable. You know, it was, I felt like, "Wait, are you ... are you talking about me? You don't know me? Like, are you talking about me?" Because that's the whole relatability when you can hear a song and think, "Wow, we walked the same path or had a similar story," you know what I mean?

Liz Phair: You know, I had made a bunch of weird songs, almost like a diary; picture it like a musical diary. And that's what the tapes Girly Sound were. I would come back from like a party, and maybe I had not said something to someone that I wanted to say, or maybe I was a little bit tipsy and I couldn't go to sleep yet and I just wanted to make up weird stuff. I would get on my Tascam four-track, and I'd just record the songs. So when I started to think about making a professional record, something that I would then sort of pitch to indie labels and ask if they wanted to put out, I didn't know how to make a record. So I thought to myself, "What did I do in college? You learn from the best." So I was thinking like, "What's the best record ever made?" And Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street was, to me that — [imitates singing angelic voices] Aaaaah! — ne plus ultra, like, amazing example of the form, of the album form. And I thought, "Why not write myself into the girl parts? So if he's singing about a woman, why don't I give her a story?" You know, and that was part of the whole feminist stuff at Oberlin, but it was like, I wrote myself in as the girl that Mick was singing to, and maybe I disagreed with them, and maybe I agreed with them. But I just immersed myself in that fantasy world and made a kind of song by song response to the Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street.

A collage of postcard advertisements and calling cards
'Exile on Main St.' is the 10th British and 12th American studio album by the English rock band the Rolling Stones, released on May 12, 1972.
Rolling Stones Records

Jill Riley: I'm so glad you brought this up, because, you know, at one point, somebody told me about this, that it was like, "Well, Jill, you know that that was her answer record to Exile on Main Street," and I went, "Answer record? I'm like, 'Well, how does that work?'" But then the way that you explain it is that you, again, you're like immersing yourself just into the world, and it's almost like you're taking on and creating these characters. But I'm so glad you brought it up, because I wasn't quite sure. Did you really kind of lay it out as almost like a

Liz Phair: Storyboard? Yes, I did!

Jill Riley: I mean, really, like, song by song, or like this alternate universe? Yeah, I love this!

Liz Phair: I brought a giant poster board into the studio with Brad Wood, who produced it, and Casey Rice who was the engineer. And I had like, literally like a list, you know, on one side were the Rolling Stones' songs and on one side were mine. And I kept crossing them out and putting in a different song, or I would cannibalize my early work to make it. And I didn't want it to be a ripoff or an imitation. I just felt like in culture, and especially in that alternative-music scene, women's stories weren't being told that frequently; like, we could imitate the boys, you know, in a lot of people, there were a lot of intrepid artists that were female that were not, that were like me, that were coming up just like me, doing our own thing. But, you know, there was a pervasive sense that this was a boys' game, and you were an interloper. I wanted a seat at the table.

A woman sings and plays guitar onstage
Liz Phair performing at the Sky Lounge during the 2004 Sundance Film Festival on January 16, 2004, in Park City, Utah.
Frazer Harrison/Getty Images

Jill Riley: Yeah. So Exile in Guyville. I'm talking with Liz Phair. And you were just talking about, you know, creating these characters, or you know, almost speaking for the women on the Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street, and again, because I had asked you, you know, are you a storyteller? Do you speak from your own experience? And it sounds like it's such a combination of the two.

Liz Phair: All of those stories either happened to me or they metaphorically happened to me, you know what I mean? Like, I would mess with that. I didn't know there was anything weird about that. I didn't know that there was any rules I was supposed to be following. But culture at the time, once you push against it, you realize how serious those walls are around what is acceptable and what is not acceptable, especially in 1993 for women. Like, it was always surprising to me, and I think it's surprising to women now when they try to step out of the lines, the kind of pushback or whatever, you know, kind of like the reaction that they get. It's like, the alarms go up, like, "She's out of bounds! She's out of bounds!"

Jill Riley: Like, when you were pushing against that, I am a, you know, a woman with this record and I want a seat at this table and a place on this stage and a place in this industry. When you pushed, what did you feel the most from the pushback? Or were they so subtle?

Liz Phair: Skepticism. No, it wasn't subtle! It was definitely not subtle! People that you knew would write about you in these fanzines, like, after they saw your show or heard your record or whatever. It was not subtle. The one thing about indieworld was everyone was brash, everybody was coming out guns blazing. The stakes were not that high when you look at it in the world, but it felt intense to young people. We were fighting for the voice.

Jill Riley: Yeah. Well, even you signing a deal with Matador. I mean, just that in itself must have ruffled feathers. 

Liz Phair: You know, luckily, I didn't get to hear those conversations because undoubtedly, there was a definite sense once I had made the record, especially when it first came out, those early days everyone thinks must have been so fantastic and amazing, what I remember that first year, is the arguments starting amongst everyone everywhere, like it wasn't just "I like it, I don't like it"; it was, "How dare she!" You know? "She's not a good person," or whatever it was, or "She doesn't know what she's doing." "It's just confessional." "She just accidentally fell into this record," when, you know, I had my little poster board, and I was like doing my little calculations. It was an art project, and I knew it. But I used my own life, and I used my stories to be authentic. And I think that just freaked people out. They couldn't put me in a box. And they freaked out. So I wasn't ready for that part.

Jill Riley: Yeah. I'm talking with Liz Phair, the Guyville tour, 30th anniversary, the record just turned 30 this summer, Exile in Guyville, the Guyville tour is coming to the Palace Theatre on November 17. I don't know how this is going to come off, but not that it should fall out of relevance, b ut as we go on, I feel like that record remains relevant in a way that I kind of wish it didn't. We're still trying to fight and push against something. I think that's that's kind of the point. I mean, do you kind of feel that with the record? Again, as we're reflecting on the time you made it? And the time you were in with the music industry? And now, I mean, what does it feel like to perform these songs and to think about where you were at as compared to where you're at now.

Liz Phair: It did sort of rise back up in the conversation, the cultural conversation, like with the #MeToo movement and the divisiveness in the country brought it back up again. It is a little bit heartbreaking that it is still so relevant. Because Guyville the record, I was drawing from stories in my own life, and at the time, I didn't realize how different this was. But there was a sense that we weren't entirely safe. You know, that women in the city on their own weren't really... I mean, there was consequences in a way, especially at Oberlin in college, you know, we were marching — Take Back the Night and stuff like this — but you did feel like you were asking for a safe place to be and to be independent, you know, without needing protection. It did feel like we were doing something important. It's kind of heartbreaking that it's still something that women need to rally around. 

Jill Riley: I'm talking with Liz Phair, Exile in Guyville, the 30th anniversary this year. Now I know that the record was reissued for the 25th anniversary, so going on this tour for the 30th anniversary of the record when an artist or a band, you know, when you tour a record and you're celebrating a record, it's almost like, am I celebrating this or are the fans celebrating it? You know, because I would imagine that these songs and the record, like, do you feel like it doesn't really belong to you anymore? That it's kind of for everyone who's going to show up at the show? 

A man poses for a studio portrait
Kevin Newbury is a theatre, opera and film director and producer based in New York City.
Marcus Shields

Liz Phair: Absolutely, absolutely. That is something as an older person, I'm keenly aware of because of how many times I've played onstage. Like, there's no question in my mind that performances are collaborative with the audience. That's just what I know from thousands of times of doing it. But this feels really special, because 30 years, it just feels like a full-circle moment. And everything I've done, including working with a theater director, Kevin Newbury, and his team, to make it a little more immersive, and bring up that story behind the record, of looking at the male archetype and the young woman I was, bringing that story up in the stage production, I think it's kind of beautiful to look across time like that and have a very now show, but also, you know, we're buying old equipment from 1990s, like lighting equipment from the '90s and stuff like that, to make it both sort of nostalgic and modern. It feels really satisfying and really right, and I do think that the audience is forefront in our minds, you know. It's, in a way, their record.

Jill Riley: And, you know, with the album and the way that you even explained how you plotted it out, and you were writing from these female character points-of-view from Exile on Main Street, like, there really is kind of a story arc to the record, isn't there?

Liz Phair: Yeah. I think I start angry, but I end up understanding. You know what I mean? Like, when I when I was explaining to the creative team that was going to help me stage this, you know, what it was about, or what the journey was that I took, one of the things that I was very aware of, and this was my feminism coming through, I needed women to be fully rounded, all of our emotions, all of our sides, all at once. I didn't want to have to be the good girl or the bad girl or the tough girl or the shy girl or the, you know, whatever it was. I wanted an entire spectrum of my emotions and my experiences to show. I think that's part of why it lasts.

Jill Riley: During the pandemic, I know that you were supposed to go out on the road with Alanis Morissette and Garbage. And that was just such a bummer that that couldn't all come together. I know Alanis Morissette eventually went out on the road. But you know, when I think of how much time I got to spend with that record Jagged Little Pill, when I first learned of Exile in Guyville, I felt cheated, because I thought, "I should have known about this record." And I don't know if the two of you spend time talking about your different and also similar experiences in the music industry. I mean, do you guys have a friendship?

Liz Phair: She reached out and offered me an opening slot long ago, like, as soon as Jagged Little Pill came out. That was a major album for me. I can remember exactly when it first came out and where I was living. I was really starting new motherhood, and I was married at that point. But I instantly recognized the same lineage that I was on. Do you know what I mean? And everyone was talking about like, "Oh, you know, these people did at first"; they were still trying to pit women against each other. They were still doing that. And it was so thin and stupid and such a tactic that I didn't appreciate. And so I went out and opened for her a couple of times, just to sort of prove that there was no bad blood. I was thrilled. And I love that album, you know? "You Oughta Know," like, "I'd go down on you in a theater." That's what I love. That was the world I wanted to live in. And that was the kind of artist that I wanted to be around. And she was incredibly generous and still is. Like, I think she's a real leader.

Jill Riley: Yeah, I just, I think in the way that I think about it is, you know, as a music fan, I wanted more of that. And I very quickly realized when I got into the radio side of the business that, again, where we are now as compared to years ago, I know that we're evolving, but that there wasn't enough so-called room. Like, "We already have our one alterna-girl and we already have our one this and our one that. We can't have any more of that because people won't like that." I wanted to only see the study, like audience study or whatever it was, that was saying, "Yes, this is exactly — we tested the audience, and they don't want to hear more than two women on the radio in an hour." And then learning that all of that was total bullcrap; you know, that that wasn't real. Like, none of that was real, whether it was pitting women against each other, or, you know, well, "We have our one, thank you very much." I imagine going through that, that you wanted probably to smash your head against a brick wall at times.

Liz Phair: It's brutal to think about how much is just gatekeeping. It just didn't feel good with a lot of women around. I just didn't want that. They thought it would be like, you know, whatever they thought, I don't even care. I don't even want to know. But absolutely, you felt that it was, here was authority telling you what you could and couldn't do, and making you fight for the one little slot they would give you. It was arbitrary. It was just a bunch of programmers and station owners being like, "Blaaaah." You know what I mean? That's some raw truth you've got to get. And think about what they missed in their audiences that are now being served today. Think about the rainbow colors of musicians that we have today. Reaching out to that real audience that was completely diverse all the way along the line. You know, it's right there.

Jill Riley: Liz Phair, 30th anniversary this year of Exile in Guyville. Again, the Guyville tour coming to the Palace Theatre. We look forward to having you in town.

Liz Phair: With Blondshell.

Jill Riley: Yes. Blondeshell played in the Entry next door to First Avenue, and there was a lot of buzz and anticipation for that. So very good work on your opening act there.

Liz Phair: Oh, I'm lucky. I'm completely lucky. Thank you, Jill.

A woman sits outside a building with her back to a door
Blondshell is the artist moniker of New York-raised, Los Angeles-based songwriter Sabrina Teitelbaum. Blondshell's self-titled debut album released April 7, 2023, on Partisan Records.
Daniel Topete

Jill Riley: Yeah, again, have just an excellent, excellent time on the road. The fans are ready and waiting, and we certainly are here in the Twin Cities. So Liz Phair, thank you so much. And you take care and have a great day. OK?

Liz Phair: You too. Thanks a lot.

Jill Riley: All right. You're listening to The Current. Liz Phair, the 30th anniversary of Exile in Guyville, the Guyville tour coming to the Palace Theatre. Liz is also the author of the memoir Horror Stories. Well, since we're talking about Exile in Guyville, here's one from the record, and it's on The Current.

Matador Records
Liz Phair - "Never Said" (Remastered Video & Audio)

Liz Phair – official site