Flavors of Entanglement : Alanis Morissette : Review : Rolling Stone

Nothing gets folks on your team like losing your fiancé to a Hollywood bombshell. So just imagine what Alanis Morissette has been doing since her ex, actor Ryan Reynolds, traipsed off with Scarlett Johansson. Writing about post-romantic stress disorder isn't new for Morissette, but her latest album doesn't rage like "You Oughta Know" — it sounds more like grief. Producer and co-writer Guy Sigsworth (Björk) frames Morissette's candid lyrics with a vaguely New Age grandeur — electro beats, Eastern percussion, orchestral arrangements — amping up the drama on her octave-hiccuping catharsis. On "Citizens of the Planet," the production alternates between ringing tablas and head-banging guitars for an oddly stirring Enya-meets-System of a Down opener. "Moratorium" uses swirling synths and space-age bleeps to distract from quirky Morissette grammaticisms: "I've never let my grasp soften fingers like this." Morissette is at her best on simple piano ballads like "Not As We" — a weeper about starting over on your own — and the emotionally raw "Torch," where she admits, "I miss . . . the thought of us bringing up our kids." Scarjo may have her man, but Morissette has something Johansson doesn't: a heartfelt record.