October 19, 2003

Madonna and Britney, Chapter 2

ESHELL NDEGEOCELLO Love is a slow, sultry undulation on Meshell Ndegeocello's "Comfort Woman" (Maverick), an album that sets aside her usual social commentary to stay in the mood. She sings about love and hope, paradise and flying, in songs that barely seem to begin or end; they just well up and dissolve with subtle, slinky grooves. The album traverses reggae, soul and climactic guitar blues in sensual slow motion.

BRITNEY SPEARS/MADONNA "Me Against the Music" (Jive), the dance-floor ditty billed as Britney Spears featuring Madonna, is more rhythm track than song. The real question is, who's using whom? Ms. Spears gets an apparent endorsement from her role model, but it's Madonna who comes out ahead: compared to the thin, computer-tuned husk of Ms. Spears's voice, Madonna sounds like a real singer.

LYRICS BORN After a decade of collaborations with hip-hop figures like DJ Shadow and Lateef, the Japanese-American rapper Lyrics Born (Tom Shimura) has released his own album: "Later That Day . . ." (Quannum Projects). Lyrics Born is a melodic, playful rapper who merges his words with the music. He spews syllables with the speed and syncopation of a jazz singer over backup tracks evoking 1970's soul. And his delivery is so genial that his politics — which for once extend beyond complaints about the state of hip-hop — register without self-righteousness.

ANTHONY HAMILTON Anthony Hamilton deserved better than to be noticed first as the guinea pig for the ineffectual copy-protection scheme his recording company applied to his album, "Comin' From Where I'm From" (Arista). His songs backdate the vocal ripples and street slang of current rhythm-and-blues with the bluesy arrangements and humble perspective of Southern soul. The album savors regionalism as it aims nationwide.

RICKIE LEE JONES She may always have the singing voice of a sleepy little girl, but Rickie Lee Jones has an adult's eye and ear on "The Evening of My Best Day" (V2), her first album of new songs since her 1997 foray into electronica, "Ghostyhead." She moves between enigmatic parables, reminiscences and direct political statements, and her music, once again played by a live and mostly acoustic band, has regained its graceful balance. She delves into jazz, gospel, Celtic music, waltzes, blues and breezy pop; she mourns and argues and casts sly glances, still conjuring mysterious knowledge and wide-eyed wonder.

LYLE LOVETT Another songwriting drought ends with "My Baby Don't Tolerate" (Curb/Lost Highway), Lyle Lovett's first album of his own new songs since 1996. But he simply picks up where he left off, ambling between honky-tonk, ballads, jazz and blues and painting characters who are, mostly, making the best of modest pleasures. He reaches a pure despair in "You Were Always There" and "Working Too Hard"; he flirts with a "San Antonio Girl" and tries to talk a policeman out of a dope bust in "Election Day." And with a voice poised between sympathy and amusement, he finds a kindly twinkle for everyone.

KATY ROSE In Avril Lavigne's petulant footsteps comes another teen-rock rebel, 16-year-old Katy Rose. On her debut album, "Because I Can" (V2), she's peeved at boys, parents and the disappointments of adolescent life, and she describes them in long-lined, precisely rhymed couplets: "I need to take a shower when I look at you/ You sting and hurt like a bad tattoo." Somewhere in California, a high-school literary magazine has lost a star.

CASSANDRA WILSON Someone seems to have realized that the jazz-rooted, genre-crossing singer Cassandra Wilson was the prototype for Norah Jones, only with a deeper, bluesier voice and a risk-taking streak. On "Glamoured" (Blue Note), Ms. Wilson reins in her mystical and historical sides to focus on love songs: her own deftly phrased ones alongside very personalized versions of Willie Nelson's "Crazy," Bob Dylan's "Lay Lady Lay" and the 1972 Luther Ingram hit "If Loving You Is Wrong." Sure, it's a nod toward pop, but it's no concession at all.

JEFF BUCKLEY "Live at Sin-e" (Columbia) was released during Buckley's lifetime as an EP; now it's a two-CD set. What was cut from the EP didn't seem as precious when it looked like Buckley had a long career ahead of him; he died in 1997 at the age of 30. The full set from a small club shows a singer and guitarist who was short on his own material but abundantly gifted, with an androgynous moan of a voice and a sense of timing that could make anything he sang luminous. He tosses off wry asides throughout his set, but when he sings, he pours everything into that voice.