Proof that the gods of rock are unfair bastards: A former TV moppet from the not-so-dirty North hooks up with Wilson Phillips' producer and makes an opportunistic angst-rock platter that not only sells 13 million copies — it doesn't suck. In fact, it's damn near flawless, from the hello-it's-me phone rage of "You Oughta Know" to the sisterly "You Learn." And right, Sherlock, "Ironic" isn't ironic — it's just Alanis speaking her piece about the perils of being a girl in a fickle-as-fuck world, singing like an acoustic guitar. Jagged Little Pill is like a Nineties version of Carole King's Tapestry: a woman using her plain soft-rock voice to sift through the emotional wreckage of her youth, with enough heart and songcraft to make countless listeners feel the earth move.

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