Louisiana-born songwriter Victoria Williams may share an audience with the alt-country likes of Wilco and the Jayhawks, but she remains a true outsider artist with an uncategorizable musical vision. Musings of a Creekdipper, Williams' first studio LP since 1994's superb Loose, showcases her singular voice (a twangy soprano equivalent of Neil Young's high tenor), eclectic approach (touches of folk, country, jazz and Tin Pan Alley-style pop) and idiosyncratic yet catchy songwriting.

What stays with you long after listening to Williams' songs are the peculiar characters she paints with tiny brush strokes: a moonlit horse praying to a congregation of rabbits (on the banjo-driven "Kashmir's Corn"), a young outcast repelled by life (on the avant-jazzy "Allergic Boy"), an old man preparing for the last journey (on "Grandpa in the Cornpatch," with its suitelike arrangement). There's a kind of magical realism here: Think Gabriel García Márquez stories illustrated by Howard Finster.

Musically, the songs may begin with a homespun simplicity, then change tempo and mood halfway through; likewise, Williams' "musings" often drift from one subject to another within the course of a single track. She turns the album's one cover, Nat "King" Cole's 1948 smash "Nature Boy," into an eerie paean to brotherly love. And though the album has a predominantly rootsy, acoustic sound, the drum loops and synthesizer (provided by former Prince sidewomen Wendy and Lisa) on the funky "Train Song" add a stylistic richness to the outing. From the majestic reverie that opens the album ("Periwinkle Sky") to the bittersweet elegy that closes it ("Blackbirds Rise"), Musings offers yet another treasure along Williams' road less traveled. (RS 779)

HOLLY GEORGE-WARREN