There's heavy irony in this album's title. While other similar singers have evolved unique musical personas—Ronstadt the sexy, country-rocking cousin, Muldaur the urban gypsy eclectic—Nelson's just kept on singing. The success of each of her records has relied on producer and material and that, combined with five label changes in a decade, has left her only what she began with: an extraordinary voice and relatively little popular recognition.

Time solves the production problem and lessens the material dilemma. Jimmy Bowen's crisp, rocking production, often reminiscent of Mother Earth's fine Warner Bros. albums, is a decided improvement, best captured in the superb music box arrangement of "You Just Can't Forget Her (Can You Fool)," and the smoothly shuffling "Couldn't Do Nothin' Right."

The title song (previously performed by Irma Thomas, an important Nelson influence to whom the album is dedicated) is victim of the album's major flaw—an overabundance of background singing. Taken at a plodding tempo, the song collapses under the strain. As on the gospel-tinged "Sudden Changes," this forces Nelson to use her strong but strident vocal power at the expense of subtlety.

Nelson sings almost exclusively of lost love. In the context of her career, the lost man is akin to that elusive break. Tracy Nelson's continued success in underpinning her loss with strength indicates that time may indeed be on her side. (RS 220)

JOHN MILWARD