This major-label debut album by musical experimentalist Robin Holcomb is smart, lovely and ambitious. Holcomb works the same turf as Suzanne Vega, Joni Mitchell and Rickie Lee Jones but seeds this literate, sophisticated pop terrain with her own sharp lyricism. A wordsmith riveted by life's momentary and private revelations, she is a wise and worldly mystic in the vein of Emily Dickinson, and her jazz-inflected singing is as knowing and supple as her lyrics. A master of compact images ("Long hair drapes the arm," from "Electrical Storm"), Holcomb celebrates freshness and innocent intensity: "Do again what you always did as a kid," she sings in "Nine Lives." Drawn from such avant-garde outfits as the New York Composers Orchestra and Kamikaze Ground Crew, Holcomb's supporting players – on instruments like tuba, clarinet and mandolin – create fertile, atmospheric settings from which the singer's ripe, suggestive words sprout like rare flowers. Robin Holcomb is a find – and a keeper. (RS 597)

PAUL EVANS