Little Plastic Castle (25th Anniversary Edition), by Ani DiFranco (2024)

1.

in a coffee shop in a citywhich is every coffee shop in every cityon a day which is every dayi picked up a magazinewhich is every magazineread a story, and then forgot it right awaythey say goldfish have no memoryi guess their lives are much like mineand the little plastic castleis a surprise every timeand it's hard to say if they're happybut they don't seem much to mindfrom the shape of your shaved headi recognized your silhouetteas you walked out of the sun and sat downand the sight of your sleepy smileeclipsed all the other peopleas they paused to sneer at the two girlsfrom out of towni said, look at you this morningyou are, by far, the cutestbut be careful getting coffeei think these people want to shoot usor maybe there's some kind of local competition hereto see who can be the rudestpeople talkabout my imagelike i come in two dimensionslike lipstick is a sign of my declining mindlike what i happen to be wearingthe day that someone takes a pictureis my new statement for all of womankindi wish they could see us nowin leather bras and rubber shortslike some ridiculous team uniformfor some ridiculous new sportquick someone call the girl policeand file a reportin a coffee shop in a citywhich is every coffee shop in every cityon a day which is every day

2.

they were digging a new foundation in manhattanand they discovered a slave cemetery theremay their souls rest easy now that lynching is frowned uponand we've moved on to the electric chairand i wonder who's gonna be presidenttweedle dum or tweedle dumber?and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summerhow ‘bout we put up a wall between houses and the highwayand then you can go your way and i can go my wayexcept all the radios agree with all the tvsand the magazines agree with all the radiosand i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i gomaybe i should put a bucket over my headand a marshmallow in each earand stumble around for another dumb numb weekfor another hum drum hit song to appearpeople used to make recordsas in a record of an eventthe event of people playing music in a roomnow everything is cross-marketingits about sunglasses and shoesor guns and drugsyou choosewe got it rehashedwe got it half-assedwe're digging up all the gravesand we're spitting on the pastand we can choose between the colorsof the lipstick on the whor*scuz we know the difference between the font of twenty percent moreand the font of teriyakiyou tell mehow does it make you feel?you tell me what's realthey say that alcoholics are always alcoholicseven when they're as dry as my lips for yearseven when they're stranded on a small desert islandwith no place in two thousand miles to buy beerand i wonder is he differentis he differenthas he changed what's he aboutor is he just a liar with nothing to lie aboutam i headed for the same brick wallis there anything i can doabout anything at allexcept go back to that corner in manhattanand dig deeperdig deeper this timedown beneath the impossible pain of our historybeneath unknown bonesbeneath the bedrock of the mysterybeneath the sewage systems and the path trainbeneath the cobblestones and the water mainbeneath the traffic of friendships and street dealsbeneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheelsbeneath everything i can think of to think aboutbeneath it allbeneath all get outbeneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruelthere's a fire just waiting for fuel

3.

i heard the sound of your bikeas your wheels hit the gravelthen your engine in the driveway, cutting offi pushed through the screen doorand i stood out on the porchthinking fight fight fight at all costsbut instead i let you injust like i've always donei sat you down and offered you a beerand across the kitchen tablei fired several roundsbut you were still sitting there when the smoke clearedyou came crawling back to saythat you want to make good in the endoh, let me count the ways that i abhor youyou were never a good layand you were never were a good friendbut oh, what can i say, i adore youall i need is my leatherone t-shirt and two socksi'll keep my hands warm in your pocketsand you can use the engine blockwe'll ride out to californiawith my arms around your chestand i'll pretend this is realcuz this is what i like bestyou've been juggling two womenlike a stupid circus clowntelling us both we are the oneand maybe you can keep mefrom ever being happybut you're not going to stop mefrom having funso let's go, before i change my mindi'll leave the luggage of all your lies behindcuz i am bigger than everything that came beforeyou were never very kindand you let me way down every timebut oh, what can i say, i adore youi heard the sound of your bikeas your wheels hit the gravelthen your engine in the driveway, cutting off

4.

you can't hidebehind social gracesso don't tryto be all touchy feelycuz you liein my face of all placesbut i got noproblem with that reallywhat bugs meis that you believe what you're sayingwhat bothers meis that you don't know how you feelwhat scares meis that while you're telling me storiesyou actuallybelieve that they are reali got no illusions about youguess whati never didwhen i saidwhen i said i'll take iti meanti meant as isjust give upand admit you're an assholeyou would be in some good companyand i think you'd findthat your friends would forgive youor maybe iam just speaking for mewhen i look aroundi think this, this is good enoughand i try to laughat whatever life bringscuz when i look downi just miss all the good stuffand when i look upi just trip over thingsi’ve got no illusions about youguess whati never didwhen i saywhen i say i'll take iti meani mean as is

5.

you were fresh off the boatfrom virginiai had a year of new york cityunder my beltwe met in a dreamwe were both nineteeni remember where we were standingi remember how it felttwo little girlsgrowing out of their training brasthis little girl breaks furniturethis little girl breaks lawstwo girls togetherjust a little less alonethis little girl cried wee wee weeall the way homeyou were always half crazynow look at you babyyou make about as much senseas a nursery rhymelove is a pianodropped from a four story windowand you were in the wrong placeat the wrong timeand i don't like your girlfriendi blame heri never seen one of your loversdo you so much harmi loved you firstand you know i would preferif she didn't empty her syringesinto your armhere comes little naked mepadding up to the bathroom doorto find little naked youslumped on the bathroom floorso i guess i’ll just stand herewith my back against the wallwhile you distill your whole lifedown to a 911 callnow you bring me your bruisesso i can 'ooh and ahh' at the displaymaybe i'm supposed to make one of my famous jokesthat makes everything okor maybe i'm supposed to be the handsome princewho rides up and unties your handsor maybe i'm supposed to be the furrow-browed friendwho thinks she understandshere comes little naked mepadding up to the bathroom doorto find little naked youslumped on the bathroom floorso i guess i'll just stand herewith my back against the wallwhile you distill your whole lifedown to a 911 call

6.

cold and drizzly night in chicago's deep dishfluorescent light of the bathroomshows my hands as they aresee an eyelash on my cheekpick it off and make a wishand walk back out into the barwind at the windowsneon lights the patterned panethe waitress wields the weightof her tray around her palmthe doorman cups his handsand lights his cigarette againand the rain marches on(this is only a possibility in a world of possibilitiesthere are obviously there are many possibilitiesranging from small to largebefore long there will be short before short there was nothingwhen there was nothing there was always the possibility of something becoming what it is)don't even bother tryingto say something cleverclever is as clever doesno matter what it saysi'm looking for a signsays you're for real this timebut i don't trust what's in your headi walk up to the barand point to the top shelfand then i throw my head backand laugh at myselfi raise a toast to all our saviorseach so badly behavedit's too bad that their worldis the one that they savedthere's a spider spinning cobwebsfrom your elbow to the tablewhile my eyes ride the crowdin a secret rodeoi smile with my mouthlift my watch up to the lightsay oh, look, i have to go(now you got to dance with me, now is when it's gotta be cuz i can't wait for the dance floor to fill inif you want to dance with me, i'll show you how it's gonna be cuz i can't wait for the band to begin)

7.

you always got those dark sunglassescovering half your facebut if you promise to take them offpromise i won't squander your gazei will be picturesquei will be nicei won't do anything you can't tell your wifei will think before i acti will think twicejust let me see your eyeseach time we've spokenwe’ve put in our tokenand ridden the tilt-a-whirli was giggling and dizzyflirting like a twelve year old girlthe carnival of you and me is coming to townwatch how we spin and spin and then fall downnow we just say hello and head for firmer groundyou are the one-way glassthat watches mestanding in line at the banki always looks into your glasseslike a cat looks into a fish tankbut all i could ever seewas the specter of me reflectedi want a monument of a friendshipthat we never had, erectedi wanted to take up lots of roomi wanted to loomyou always got those dark sunglassesbetween us when we talkbut after the party is overif you wanna take a walkwe could just look aroundnot do nothing wrongjust try to be at least as brave as our songsi will bring my hearti will bring my faceyou name the time and place

8.

i'm a pixiei'm a paper dolli'm a cartooni'm a chipper cheerful free for alland i light up a roomi'm the color me happy girlmiss live and let liveand when they're out for bloodi always givethe man behind the counter looks like he's gota half a dozen places he'd rather beand furthermore it looks like he's preparedto take it all out on mebuddy, i don't really care what your problem isjust don't make it minecome on kids, let's all hold handsand pretend we're having a good timemaybe you don't like your jobmaybe you didn't get enough sleepwell, nobody likes their jobnobody got enough sleepmaybe you just hadthe worst day of your lifebut, you know, there's no escapeand there's no excuseso just suck up and be niceall the privileged white kids on tvplaying at deathbrandishing their cold cutswith their ghostly makeupand their heroin breathand all the little fishes are flapping wildlyon their hookswhile all the top critics find great meaningin the telephone bookthe little emperor he has no clothesso he can't come out to playand besides which life is sufferingand he likes it that wayand the little guy is not so friendlybut you know life has been cruelso wipe that smile off your face babyand try to be coolmaybe you don't like your jobmaybe you didn't get enough sleepwell, nobody likes their jobnobody got enough sleepmaybe you just hadthe worst day of your lifebut, you know, there's no escapethere's no excuseso just suck up and be niceyeah, i would like to perfect the artof being studiously alooflike life is just a boring choreand i am living proofi could join forces with an armyor ornery hipstersbut then i guess i'd be out of a jobso i guess that's out of the picturecuz i’m a pixiei am a paper dolli'm a cartooni'm a chipper cheerful free for alland i light up a roomi'm the color me happy girlmiss live and let liveand when they're out for bloodi always give

9.

i’m cradling the softest, warmest part of you in my handsfeels like a little baby birdfallen from the nesti think that your body is something i understandi think that i'm happyi think that i'm blessedbut i've had a lack of inhibitioni've had a loss of perspectivei've had a little bit to drinkand it's making me thinkthat i can jump ship and swimthat the ocean will hold methat there's got to be morethan this boat i'm inthey can call me crazy if i failall the chance that I needis one-in-a-millionand they can call me brilliantif i succeedgravity is nothing to mei’m moving at the speed of soundi'm just gonna get my feet wetuntil i drowni teeter between tiredand really, really tiredi'm wiped and i'm wiredbut I guess that's just as wellcuz I've built my own empireout of car tires and chicken wirei'm queen of my own compost heapand i'm getting used to the smelli've had a lack of informationi've had a little revelationi'm climbing up on the railingtrying not to look downi'm going to do my best swan diveinto shark infested watersi'm going to pull out my tamponand start splashing aroundcuz I don't care if they eat me alivei've got better things to do than survivei've got the memory of your warm skin in my handsand i've got a vision of blue sky and dry landi’m cradling the hardest, heaviest part of me in my handsthe ship is pitching and heavingour limbs are bobbing and weavingi think that this is something i understandi just need a couple vaccinationsfor my far-away vacationi'm gonna go ahead and go boldlycuz a little bird told methat jumping is easybut falling is funright up until you hit the sidewalkshivering and stunnedthey can call me crazy if i failall the chance that i needis one-in-a-million and they can call me brilliantif i succeedgravity is nothing to mei’m moving at the speed of soundi'm just gonna get my feet wetuntil i drown

10.

sitting in my glass housewhile your ghost is sleeping down the hallwatching the little birds flykamikaze missions into the wallsthink i'm going to stay in todaysit on the couch and watch them falllife just keeps getting harderand it just keeps getting harder to hidethe darker it is around methe easier it is to see insideoutside the glassthe whole world is magnifiedand it's half an inchfrom here to the other sidei guess that push has come to thisso i guess this must be shovebut before you throw those stones at metell me, what is your house made of?and if you think you know what i'm doing wrongyou're gonna have to get in linebut for the purposes of this songlet's just say i'm doing finei guess i'm doing finetrapped in my glass housea crowd has been gathering outside since dawni make a pot of coffeewhile catastrophe awaits me out on the lawnthink i'm going to stay in todayand pretend like i don't know what's going onyeah, i guess that push has come to thisso i guess this must be shovebut before you throw those stones at metell me, what is your house made of?and if you think you know what i'm doing wrongyou're gonna have to get in linebut for the purposes of this songlet's just say i'm doing finei think i'm doing fine

11.

we drove the carto the top of the parking ramp4th of julysat out on the hoodwith a couple of warm beersand watched the fireworksexplode in the skythere was an exodus of birds from the treescuz they didn't knowwe were only pretendingand the people all looked up and looked pleasedand the birds flew aroundlike the whole world was endingi don't think war is nobleand i don't like to think love is like warbut i got a big hot cherry bomband i want to slip it through the mail slotof your front dooryou can't leave me herei got your back nowyou'd better have minecuz you say the coast is clearbut you say that all the timeso many sheep i quit countingsleepless and embarrassedabout the way that i feeltrying to make mole hills out of mountainsbuilding base camp at the bottomof a really big dealdid i ever tell you how i stopped eatingwhen you stopped calling mei was cramped upand sh*tting rivers for weeksand pretending that i was finally freeyou can't leave me herenow that you’re backyou'd better stay this timecuz you say the coast is clearbut you say that all the timewe drove the carto the top of the parking ramp4th of julyi planted my dusty boots on the bumpersat out on the hoodand looked up at the sky

12.

you crawled into my bedlike some sort of giant insectand i found myself spellboundat the sight of you therebeautiful and grotesque and all the rest of that bug stuffbluffing your way into my mouthbehind my teethreaching for my scarsthat night we got kicked out of two barsand laughed our way homethat night you leaned overand threw up into your hairand i held you there thinkingi would offer you my pulseif i thought it would be usefuli would give you my breathexceptthe problem with death is we have some hundred years and then they can build buildings on our only bonesa hundred years and then your grave is not your ownwe lie in our beds and our gravesunable to save ourselves from the quaint tragedies we inventand undo from the stupid circ*mstanceswe slalom throughand i realized that night that the hall lightwhich seemed so bright when you turned it onis nothingcompared to the dawnwhich is nothingcompared to the lightwhich seeps from me while you're sleepingcocooned in my roombeautiful and grotesque, restingthat night we got kicked out of two barsand laughed our way homei thought:i would offer you my pulsei would give you my breathi would offer you my pulse…

13.

i heard the sound of your bikeas your wheels hit the gravelthen your engine in the driveway, cutting offi pushed through the screen doorand i stood out on the porchthinking fight fight fight at all costsbut instead i let you injust like i've always donei sat you down and offered you a beerand across the kitchen tablei fired several roundsbut you were still sitting there when the smoke clearedyou came crawling back to saythat you want to make good in the endoh, let me count the ways that i abhor youyou were never a good layand you were never were a good friendbut oh, what can i say, i adore youall i need is my leatherone t-shirt and two socksi'll keep my hands warm in your pocketsand you can use the engine blockwe'll ride out to californiawith my arms around your chestand i'll pretend this is realcuz this is what i like bestyou've been juggling two womenlike a stupid circus clowntelling us both we are the oneand maybe you can keep mefrom ever being happybut you're not going to stop mefrom having funso let's go, before i change my mindi'll leave the luggage of all your lies behindcuz i am bigger than everything that came beforeyou were never very kindand you let me way down every timebut oh, what can i say, i adore youi heard the sound of your bikeas your wheels hit the gravelthen your engine in the driveway, cutting off

14.

you can't hidebehind social gracesso don't tryto be all touchy feelycuz you liein my face of all placesbut i got noproblem with that reallywhat bugs meis that you believe what you're sayingwhat bothers meis that you don't know how you feelwhat scares meis that while you're telling me storiesyou actuallybelieve that they are reali got no illusions about youguess whati never didwhen i saidwhen i said i'll take iti meanti meant as isjust give upand admit you're an assholeyou would be in some good companyand i think you'd findthat your friends would forgive youor maybe iam just speaking for mewhen i look aroundi think this, this is good enoughand i try to laughat whatever life bringscuz when i look downi just miss all the good stuffand when i look upi just trip over thingsi’ve got no illusions about youguess whati never didwhen i saywhen i say i'll take iti meani mean as is

15.

you were fresh off the boatfrom virginiai had a year of new york cityunder my beltwe met in a dreamwe were both nineteeni remember where we were standingi remember how it felttwo little girlsgrowing out of their training brasthis little girl breaks furniturethis little girl breaks lawstwo girls togetherjust a little less alonethis little girl cried wee wee weeall the way homeyou were always half crazynow look at you babyyou make about as much senseas a nursery rhymelove is a pianodropped from a four story windowand you were in the wrong placeat the wrong timeand i don't like your girlfriendi blame heri never seen one of your loversdo you so much harmi loved you firstand you know i would preferif she didn't empty her syringesinto your armhere comes little naked mepadding up to the bathroom doorto find little naked youslumped on the bathroom floorso i guess i’ll just stand herewith my back against the wallwhile you distill your whole lifedown to a 911 callnow you bring me your bruisesso i can 'ooh and ahh' at the displaymaybe i'm supposed to make one of my famous jokesthat makes everything okor maybe i'm supposed to be the handsome princewho rides up and unties your handsor maybe i'm supposed to be the furrow-browed friendwho thinks she understandshere comes little naked mepadding up to the bathroom doorto find little naked youslumped on the bathroom floorso i guess i'll just stand herewith my back against the wallwhile you distill your whole lifedown to a 911 call

16.

17.

Twenty-five years later, Little Plastic Castle feels like a greatest hits collection. Her highest charting release on Billboard (peaking at #22) and containing her third Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance - Female (“Glass House”), Ani DiFranco’s ninth studio album shows the Little Folksinger grappling with her independent career bubbling up into the mainstream — dissection of her fashion choices, a new expanded listenership encroaching on the die-hards, examination of what it means to sell out — encapsulated in singalongs so indelible that they’re staples of her live set decades later. This 25th Anniversary Edition sees a new remaster by Heba Kadry, the addition of three bonus tracks mixed by Tchad Blake, and a new CD package and first-time release on vinyl (2 LP).

To make Little Plastic Castle, Ani returned to one of her favorite places to record in that era—the live-in studio the Congress House in Austin, Texas. In this relaxed setting she commented, "This album seemed to happen more organically than earlier studio releases." Ani is joined by drummer Andy Stochansky and bassist Jason Mercer who played with her on her 1997 tours, as well as bassist Sara Lee who toured with Ani in 1996. LPC also prominently features outside musicians including drummer Jerry Marotta (Peter Gabriel, Indigo Girls), a horn section composed of three Austin session musicians who add flavor to "Little Plastic Castle" and "Deep Dish," and trumpeter Jon Hassell (Brian Eno, Talking Heads) providing the sustained subtle solo on the 14-minute final track "Pulse." The three bonus tracks are recordings of Ani playing with the rhythm section of Sara Lee and Jerry Marotta, a trio that never reassembled after their single day of tracking.

Though Ani described it as “the most light-hearted album I’ve made in a long time,” this record covers a wide range of topics — the impermanence of existence ("Fuel"), mutual respect ("Pixie"), forgiveness ("As Is"), drugs (“Two Little Girls”) — and emotions. From radio-friendly pop gems to the album’s closing spoken word and instrumental jam, the songs on this record offer up a surprise every time.

Chosen as one of the "Greatest Albums Made By Women" by NPR in 2017, Little Plastic Castle has proven to have an enduring legacy. Six songs from this record — the title track, Fuel, Gravel, As Is, Two Little Girls, and Swan Dive) remain in heavy rotation at live shows. Looking back, we see this record as the one that embodies Ani’s cultural impact — and has the most earworms.

“Young teenagers in suburban America soon began singing her songs at open mics, playing her music on their college radio stations and making sure their “great female singers” mix tapes all had an Ani song. The album’s lyrics dealt with infidelity, relationships across the gender spectrum and fighting for respect. And although some misunderstood her outspokenness for anger, many found her music completely cathartic, seeing themselves reflected in her pain and struggle.” - NPR Turning the Tables

released June 23, 2023

produced by ani d.
original album mixed by ani d. and andrew gilchrist @ the congress house, austin, texas
bed tracks bonuses mixed by tchad blake

engineered by andrew gilchrlst with mark hallman and bob doidge
digital editing of "pulse" by marty lester
mastered by heba kadry, nyc
vinyl lacquer cutting by chris muth

thanks to vince tundo for letting me take his concertina for a spin

cat photos by asia kepka
all other photos and oodles of computer tomfoolery by albert sanchez
original layout and buckets more eye-crossing tomfoolery by ani d. and adam sloan
reissue design by carrie smith

all songs by ani difranco © 1998 righteous babe music /bmi, except "gravel" and "independence day" © 1997 righteous babe music /bmi.