Alanis Morissette, Glasgow review: 'feminist catharsis incarnate'

Alanis Morissette, Bellahouston Park, Glasgow ★★★★

When Alanis Morissette released her massive multi-platinum-selling album Jagged Little Pill in 1995, it's fair to say that it wasn’t for me. I was 20 years old, an already fully formed music snob who liked the better Britpop and American alternative rock bands, so Morissette’s fusion of faux-grunge, arena rock and – to my ears at the time – histrionic solipsism struck me as a calculated corporate exercise

I sniggered at the infamous lyrics of Ironic like every other tedious smug pedant, and basically never thought about her again. This was not my music.

And it still isn't, but during this huge outdoor gig, while surrounded by women of all ages singing along to Morissette’s sincerely crafted confessionals with maximum gusto, I finally got it. You're never too old to learn and change your knee-jerk mind.

First of all, Morissette has an incredible voice. It’s powerful yet controlled, she never showboats. You’d assume that the crowd-delighting hits she’s been obliged to perform for the last 31 years would be tossed off as mere recitals, but no. She sang with genuine passion, “authenticity” if you will, and I swear I saw actual tears in her eyes at times during the latter part of the show.

Also, her best songs – such as You Oughta Know, Hand in My Pocket, Head Over Feet and, oh yes, Ironic – are absolute bangers. Huge choruses. Feminist catharsis incarnate.

And she never came across as a self-important showbiz phoney, which is what I’d idly dismissed her as back when I was young and stupid. The empathy is real, the anger, compassion and earnestness earned. I understand why the faithful gathered here en masse tonight. Even on this vast scale, there was a tangible connection.

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