Around the time that Studio 54 trendies began limo-ing downtown to Manhattan's Mudd Club, Grace Jones, former model and ersatz disco queen, redesigned herself in the image of dance-oriented rock. Worked over visually by her artist-husband Jean-Paul Goude and reshaped musically by the ace reggae rhythm section of drummer Sly Dunbar and bassist Robbie Shakespeare, Jones became more than a New Wave camp follower. On her breakthrough LP, Nightclubbing, Jones' deadpan, declamatory vocals were the striking centerpiece of a boundary-defying mix of reggae, rock and funk.

Living My Life, at its most successful, simply reprises Nightclubbing's best moments: "Nipple to the Bottle" recalls the percolating rhythms and double entendres of "Pull Up to the Bumper"; "My Jamaican Guy" echoes the languorous groove and put-on patois of "Feel Up." Like Marianne Faithfull on Dangerous Acquaintances, Jones has found a comfortable niche for an improbable voice and rarely tests the limits of a still-unique formula. She does step out of character to talk her way through Melvin Van Peebles' "The Apple Stretching," but it's neither conversational nor confrontational enough to be more than a sentimental-postcard look at New York City. During a moody tune cowritten by Barry Reynolds, Jones finally admits, "I've been searching for some inspiration," which may explain why Living My Life promises more than it delivers. This year's model should have been Grace under pressure. (RS 391)

MICHAEL HILL