The self-appointed CEO of intrepid indie grrrl-rock sparks one more with Up Up Up Up Up Up, an ebullient addition to an already prolific and deeply admirable career. The playful synthetics and occasional stabs at atypical DiFranco stylings bely the general humorlessness of her lyrics: "'Tis of Thee" is as annoyed with American TV-news culture as one can get (as might be expected of street-cynical Ani). "Come Away" is just plain corny, wistfully scrapbooking a lover away with tinkly punches on an electric piano. "Virtue" is wackier, with shades of old songs by young Edie Brickell, and "Jukebox" sounds relentlessly synthesized, funky with baffling lyrics and weird abrupt high notes like the ones we either adore or abhor from contempo sister Alanis Morissette. Some fans may continue to dream of an album wherein Ani shows off some real chops, as she'll do for lucky people in concert: she's actually a wonderful 12-string guitarist, but you can't really get a feel for that here.

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