Innocence is like a dollar bill in a busted vending machine: Once it's gone, you aren't getting it back. So Jenny Lewis, whose up-until-now enduring image was that of a blue polka-dotted Southern belle, might as well kiss her Dorothy-esque appeal goodbye. "Acid Tongue" gets its title from the line, "I've been down to Dixie and dropped acid on my tongue." A thousand clean-cut boys in Middle America have just lost their princess. Freed from the burden of virtue, the prodigal daughter blossoms in this den of foot-tapping hell-fire. In "The Next Messiah," her sultry voice slithers atop bluesy guitars when a male voice chimes in: "I'm gonna give my love to you on a day you gotta bring it back." Our little girl is a full-grown tramp.
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