Picture it: It's 1995, I'm five years old and it's the year my sister, Jeneah, graduated from high school; dyed her hair purple and wrecked two cars. It's the year before she left for college and walked out of my life for a long time. It's the year where one sunny afternoon, she called me into the living room, and handed me a t-shirt she had brought back from a concert. And as I looked at that tshirt, I saw a blue background with a painted buffalo with the words Juliana Hatfield printed underneath. Ever since, it's been the point of no return.
Only Everything is the link between me and my sister, the thing that holds us together, our common bond. So sue me if I may be prejudiced. But the album itself, all emotional bonds forgotten, is simply fantastic. It's what other female quasi-rockers such as Jewel (who I despise with a passion) can only dream of. While I'm not saying there are no weaknesses on this album, every song is from Juliana's heart, and every guitar riff is crunched out from her very bone and spirit. Juliana presents "only everything", so to speak, on this album. From heavy rock (What a Life), cryptic French (Fleur de Lys), to aching and brutal honesty (Bottles and Flowers). When I finally found my own personal copy of Only Everything last year at the bottom of a sale bin at the Record Joint, I knew it was fate. I found that album at a low point of my life, and as soon as I put it in my cd player, 1995 came to life again. I was five years-old again, in the living room holding my sister's concert tshirt, holding the bond between my sister and I, feasible in my hands.
Buy this cd, listen to it. See if you can possibly relate to what I'm talking about. If you can't, great, move along. If you see the beauty and the magic of Juliana's best album, welcome to my world.