Stressed for success

There’s something about turbulent times, whether in politics or in her personal life, that seems to bring out the best in Ani DiFranco. The veteran singer-songwriter’s 19th album, “Knuckle Down,” draws much of its emotional power from songs she wrote while in the throes of her recent divorce.

That kind of confessional candor has endeared DiFranco, 34, to one of pop music’s largest and most intense cult audiences, and her ownership of the record company Righteous Babe, based in her hometown of Buffalo, N.Y., has made her a model of rugged independence in a corporate world.

DiFranco, who plays the Wiltern LG on Saturday and the Avalon on Feb. 15, talked recently about recording the album and her impending return to political themes.

“Knuckle Down” is the first time you’ve written songs on a deadline for a specific project and worked with a co-producer (Joe Henry). What was that like?

It was kind of satisfying in that I managed to meet the deadline. For a writer who is simply at the whim of her muse most of the time, it sort of felt good to flex that muscle. It felt like I was back in school with a writing assignment.... I’m a pretty disciplined person with my work, but the creating part of it is not where the discipline comes in. I can’t sit myself down every morning and try to express, ‘cause I’ll just have nothing to say. I pretty much have to really feel it.

So how did you manage to come up with these songs?

I sort of cracked open my journal and the dark recesses of my mind and was a little more deliberate or vehement about writing it down or getting it out.... I was just listening to the record the other night. I was like, “Whoa, that record’s kind of sad, kind of bitter.”

“Dilate” is regarded as your most intimate, personal album. Does this remind you of it in any way?

I agree there’s a correlation. And the funny part is, it’s like eight years since that “Dilate” record, and I’ve come out with a similar beast and it’s the same relationship! It’s the same guy! This is sort of about the end. At the time of writing this record, it was a particularly volatile time for us.

Your record company, Righteous Babe, is one of the pioneers in the independent-label world. It seems that it’s becoming an increasingly viable option for artists to remain independent rather than sign with a major label these days.

I guess I was one of the early people to stand up and say, “Indie not as a means to an end.” While being independent is not getting any easier as the corporate monopolization trend continues, it’s probably becoming more and more important and necessary for people.... If you have an audience, all you need is distribution.

You’ve been an outspoken activist for your whole career. With President Bush’s second term just starting, do you welcome the challenge of being a voice of opposition for a few more years?

Yes, I suppose, though I would prefer to welcome other challenges that involved greater momentum in the right direction.

There was a surge of activism by musicians around the Kerry campaign last year. Do you see that energy and political activism continuing?

I hope beyond hoping that it does continue. Truthfully, though, I’ve encountered a lot of musicians who were somewhat apolitical beings before last year and like so many people were inspired to change that. And now I’m encountering them and I’m feeling this energy of back to the shrugging, like, “Oh well, we voted once, it didn’t work.”

So in my terminally chipper way I’ve been pouncing around trying to say to my friends, “We’ve only begun to vote, let alone fight.”

During my voter registration tour last fall I was trying to counter all the talk about November.... Let’s talk about from now on, not November. Let’s talk about changing our lifestyles and empowering ourselves and reactivating ourselves.

Is this likely to inspire more political material from you?

I am on to more political material now. I’ve been challenging myself more than ever with such writing, and finding myself more and more determined to say very specific political things in my songs, or pursue very pointed political opinions.

I’m recognizing that political writing is not as automatic as love songs. Simply to use certain language that is not inherently musical sets up a much more difficult writing proposition. It’s easy to sing the word “love.” It’s hard to sing the word “patriarchy” and get away with it.