I have nothing to offer but confusion," sings Throwing Muses' Kristin Hersh on "Bright Yellow Gun," the blistering opening track of University. It's a lie, of course. While Hersh may seem at the mercy of a manic imagination, on the Muses' latest record she delivers a pointed, powerful vision as she probes the thickets of love, identity and place.

Beneath Hersh's sweet, sad vocals, the record is lean and intent. Now pared to a power trio of sorts, with Hersh front and center, backed by founding drummer David Narcizo and bass player Bernard Georges, the Muses have never sounded more focused, more driving. The drums bound, and Hersh's guitar and Georges' bass lunge together; her leads are clean, strong and hooky.

Obscurity has often been Hersh's first indulgence, but the songs on University play over the deep waters of mystic abandon like low-flying birds. The lyrics of songs like "Bright Yellow Gun" and "Shimmer" are mysterious without yielding fully to density, attractive foremost for their force and then for their hidden drama. Mistress of the neat couplet, like "I start at his knees/And I end in his dreams" ("Start"), Hersh also drops haunted fragments into songs – the dislocated pleading in "Calm Down, Come Down," the ambient voices of her children on "University." Hersh is as capable of the softest of folk rounds ("That's All You Wanted") as she is of taking the edgiest of turns to the places where dread and wit meet ("Teller"). And on "Snakeface" she insinuates a thick baby-doll coo against a simple bass line and tom-tom beat.

The urgency and moody convolutions that charged Hersh's fine solo record, Hips and Makers, last year are in full bloom on University, the Muses' best record to date. Hersh works from the middle of her own genuine weirdness, her music at the service of her wild mind. So much excitement courses through this album, it proves that Hersh is simply one of the most gifted artists around. (RS 702)

BARBARA O'DAIR