Blood and guts

"I don't know what it's like for other performers, but I know when I'm playing I'm going a mile a minute," says DiFranco over the phone from her hotel room in Eugene, Oregon, the morning after a performance. "There's so much stimulus, so many little faces to look at, so many little noises to listen to, each one of them triggering something."

At age 25, DiFranco has been triggering something in audiences for more than a decade and a half. The Buffalo native began playing guitar in local bars at age nine. "There was this guy at the guitar shop where I got my guitar," she explains. "He was sort of this singing, songwriting, alcoholic, barfly guy and I was this precocious kid, and we became best friends for a while. I was probably the only person in the world who would listen to him. I would go around to all his gigs and we would play Beatles songs."

By 15, DiFranco was a veteran of playing in bars; she left home, moved into her own place, and began writing songs. She moved to New York City in 1988 and started her own record label, Righteous Babe, which released her first album in 1990. Her seventh recording, Not a Pretty Girl, came out earlier this year. Although she has a small staff working for her now, DiFranco continues to function as CEO of her label, checking in daily with the office by phone when she's on the road.

"The Million You Never Made," from Not a Pretty Girl, summarizes DiFranco's feelings about being her own boss. "You can dangle your carrot but I ain't gonna reach for it, 'cause I need both my hands to play my guitar," she sings, continuing, "No, I don't prefer obscurity, but I'm an idealistic girl/And I wouldn't work for you no matter what you paid."

She's not just blowing smoke. Her independent success -- 175,000 tapes and CDs sold in what is essentially a glorified DIY effort -- hasn't gone unnoticed by major and more-established indie labels, from whom she is constantly fending off offers. "There's masses of interest because when they see something that works they want to buy it and co-opt it and commercialize it and milk it for what it's worth. People in the industry tell me I'm my own biggest obstacle in my career, that I could be this and that, and I say, `Yeah, oh well, I'm happier just struggling."

Struggling, after all, is a big part of what DiFranco is about. Her songs don't flinch when describing the uglier side of life. On "Tiptoe," she gets inside the mind of a woman contemplating an abortion: "Tiptoeing through the used condoms strewn on the piers. . . . Walking towards the water with a fetus holding court in my gut/My body hijacked, my tits swollen and sore. . . . I could step off the end of this pier but I got shit to do and an appointment on Tuesday to shed uninvited blood and tissue."

Not that this singer is all self-righteous piss and gore. She leavens the mix with a hefty dose of self-awareness and even humor. "Maybe you should follow my example and go meet yourself a really nice girl," she sings to a boyfriend all worked up over a lesbian liaison in "Light of Some Kind." DiFranco doesn't apologize for her fervor, however. "To be really pissed off and really passionate about things is to me just necessary. The world is completely fucked, as beautiful as it is, and it seems like if you really care about something you want the best for it."

Not a Pretty Girl, like her previous efforts, boasts a stripped-down sound. Most tunes feature just DiFranco on acoustic guitar with Andy Stochansky on drums; on some of the tracks she has overdubbed herself on electric guitar and bass. "I like music with holes in it, sparse sound, and the challenge of having very few people doing a lot, rather than a lot of people doing just a few things." In her hands, the acoustic guitar is transformed into a rock-and-roll orchestra. "A lot of survival techniques developed over years playing acoustic guitar in bars are infused in my playing."

When she performs for audiences now, she no longer needs to vie for their attention by playing like some Pete Townshend wanna-be. "My playing got more and more aggressive as a way of trying to keep my head above water. Now I just do it 'cause it's fun."