‘Jagged Little Pill’ Just Turned 30 and Alanis Morissette’s Message Is as Relevant as Ever

There are the artists who get us through certain phases; some that are merely fleeting infatuations; others whose discography stays with us for decades. But on very rare, transformative occasions, an artist transcends time to see us through any stage. For author and professor Megan Volpert, that person is Alanis Morissette. Morissette’s third studio album, Jagged Little Pill, was released 30 years ago, and ever since, its 12 tracks have stood for righteous rage.

Apart from achieving both critical and commercial success, the album became a cultural touchstone, inspiring innumerable references in film and television, its own Broadway musical, and an abundance of tabloid fodder involving a certain sitcom uncle. Upon the album’s release, Volpert turned to it for company in cruel adolescence, but only recently realized how much more resonant it would be to her full-grown self—so much so that she wrote a book about it, titled, accurately, Why Alanis Morissette Matters.

It’s part of the University of Texas Press’s Music Matters series, which in 2021 published Why Marianne Faithfull Matters by Women of Rock Oral History founder Tanya Pearson. Volpert was so moved by Pearson’s book; the two became pen pals; and Pearson ultimately prompted her to think about contributing to the series. So, Volpert made a shortlist of potential subjects—Stevie Nicks, Queen Latifah, Ani DiFranco, Bonnie Rait, and of course, Morissette. 

“I really wanted to have a full-blown femsplaining moment,” Volpert told Jezebel of her desire to write about Jagged Little Pill. “I really needed a record that had to be set straight.”

Volpert had counted herself as a fan of Morissette’s since teenagedom. It was her voice and ahead-of-her-time lyrics that aided in Volpert’s growing pains: grappling with capitalism and the hands that hold the levers of power. If Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera were princesses of ’90s and ’00s pop, Morissette was the prophet on the hill. Pissed at your parents? Home alone and heartbroken? Seething over yet another instance in which you felt unseen? Whether you’re 14, or 44 feeling like 14, there is an Alanis song for each and every experience, as Volpert details. Her body of work stands in service to one’s own personal evolution. Like any parasocial relationship, Volpert periodically grew at a different pace than Morissette and, by the time she went to college, stopped paying attention to her career.

Volpert was committed to reconciling that in writing Why Alanis Morissette Matters, and knew she didn’t want the book to be “a straightforward biography” but a more thorough examination of why Morissette’s message reverberates decades on. In her research, she discovered that Morissette starred in Sensitive, a 2015 documentary about the experience of being a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP)—that is, a person of heightened emotional sensitivity with a stronger reactivity to both external and internal stimuli (pain, hunger, light, noise, etc.) With that information, Morissette’s lyricism—and the impact it had on Volpert—made sense. (Who but an HSP could’ve possibly written “Your House”?) 

It also gave Volpert the way in she was looking for: “That was the thing that seemed most central to her life and work that had not been very publicly discussed or given proper emphasis as a foundational layer of the work that she does.” Morissette has remarked in multiple interviews that the first 30 rows of her shows must be HSP-oriented people. It speaks to the certain kinship her communication has established with her fans. “To have community as a result of seeing oneself in that way is kind of a crazy idea,” Volpert added. (Coincidently—although maybe less so after reading the previous two paragraphs—Volpert discovered through this research that she is also an HSP.)

 

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The book is at its most poignant when it reminds readers that Morissette has always remained above the fray, choosing instead to settle the score through song and let The Man incriminate himself. The most famous case, of course, is the man (or men) who inspired “You Outta Know.” Morissette has never actually confirmed the identity of any of her subjects—especially not the song that launched a thousand rumors. Meanwhile, multiple men (Uncle Joey included) have tried to lay claim as her muse, no matter how much of a douche Morissette’s lyrics make them sound.

Morissette has taken a similar approach when it comes to any story that involves her. In 2022, she declined to perform at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony due to sexist comments made by Jann Wenner, co-founder of Rolling Stone and former Hall of Fame board member. “I am at a point in my life where there is no need for me to spend time in an environment that reduces women,” she wrote in a lengthy Instagram story. It wasn’t just removing herself from the drama, but a definitive statement about a woman’s right to say no when much of the public’s attitude remains “shut up and sing.”

“I thought it was really a smooth move on her part and it came at such a prescient time, too,” Volpert said. “I mean, Jann Wenner got booted off the board like 10 minutes after, so she read the tea leaves correctly.” But she noted that Morissette had been between a rock and a hard place from the jump: If she’d gone to the ceremony, “she’s lending her power,” Volpert said. But, “if she doesn’t say anything about the situation, then she’s just letting it lie. And if she does say something,” people will say, “oh, it’s all about Alanis.” 

It’s “the same sort of B.S. that she suffered so often in the ’90s,” Volpert said, before making a distinctly Alanis-esque point: “I will not be fooled by capitalism into saying that things are better for women in music now than they were” then. Sure, “the content is different, but the forms are the same.” 

The book elaborates on this—and related—arguments, including the spectrum of palatability that governs how we, the audience, measure female artists’ apparent feminism against each other. The criteria is all-encompassing: from the artist’s music, to the way they interact with labels and promoters, to their performances and products. All of it is a distraction from what actually matters: that men still maintain most decision-making power in the industry. Regardless of the fact that women are undoubtedly the most popular (not to mention profitable) artists today, their pockets aren’t filled first.

For Volpert, it brings to mind a phenomenon at her book signings and live events: “I’ve noticed that men come to my readings because I’ve written a lot of books about the church of rock and roll and they care about it, and they’re willing to go there with me on female musicians a lot of the time, which I’m grateful for. But when they ask questions at the end [of an Alanis gig], there’s an extreme wariness and trepidation about how they phrase things. And I can tell that they have understood that they may be Mr. Man and not realized it.”

“I can tell that they’re scared that they may have blind spots or a lack of self-awareness about some things, and that, to me, is like ‘oh, you’ve understood that you’re plugged into a system which maybe you had no part in the creation of, but you are profiting by,'” she added.

Frankly, there’s optimism in that; there’s much progress that needs to be made, but a fraction of those who most need to make it seem (at least somewhat) game. Still, perhaps the most powerful takeaway of Why Alanis Morissette Matters is how an artist (and their decades of work) is able to remain so personal to a stranger’s progression.

“So much of life is a gray area and I think the older we get, the more we recognize that,” Volpert said. “And so as Alanis learned that over time—softened just a little in that regard—so, too, did I. 

“But the fundamental fact of my judgment of her work? That has not changed. It was honest and true when I was a kid, and it’s honest and true now.”