You could argue that Jagged Little Pill is the commercialised face of grunge. You could argue that Morrisette is just a cynical businesswoman, courting controversy with a few carefully placed, risqué references. You could even argue that this whole angst-rock is just a comfort-blanket for the therapy-generation.
 
But it's still hard to argue that Jagged Little Pill isn't a great album. After all, it's the perfect alternative/mainstream crossover. There's "You Oughta Know", which marries its vitriolic, explicit narrative to thunderous, airbrushed grunge. With references to oral sex, Middle America were shocked, but not quite offended: it sold by the truckload.
 
There's "Ironic", where Morrisette laments the trials that face every housewife ("there's ten thousand spoons / when all you need is a knife") to a scream-along, mosh-friendly chorus. The simple truth is, on Jagged Little Pill, the Canadian-born Alanis Morrisette does a very good job of being America's Everywoman.