Shelby Lynne - Tears, Lies & Alibis

Quietly coming from nowhere, Shelby Lynne has released an album boasting some of the best songs of her entire career. With her trailor-trash blonde beauty and tough-cookie persona, her silky Dusty-esque timbre ought to sell for millions. The fiercely independent country/rock not-pop singer releases her stripped back Tears, Lies & Alibis. The more I listen, the more I am amazed - an acoustic-and-voice collection that will lift you in your lowest or most pensive search for some kind of redemption.

The light acoustic shower of Rains Came is the jaunty opener stretched to the impossible length of 2:25 minutes. Why Didn't You Call Me is even shorter. These first two songs - neither lasting longer than 2 minutes each - are mere bait, but she's a gifted singer and her jazz-folk songs are arranged to stregnthen her lyrics. She's finding the subtle details that she craves with generous ease.

The poignant Like A Fool is half a dozen tattoos from being a softer Ani Difranco song. Her touching eloquence blossoms on all 10 tracks. The sultry Alibi is almost cinematic, I can only hope she never tires of being disappointed by her lovers.

The torchly Something To Be Said About Air is a 3:34 minute of climactic poetry, it's almost jazz. Too gritty to be anything near edgy, Family Tree is a smouldering gear shift (faster strums basically, think Kelly Llorenna by herself in a toilet cubicle). The sultry and seductive Loser Dreamer is self-amused and settles into your heart like a sunset. This is the sound of day-later melancholy, I totally see glimpses of myself wanting to say these things myself.

Shelby's buy-now pay-later love orders 'make it a double' on Old #7. Her stubborn vocal contours on Old Dog ('there must be someone out there somewhere') suggests a brave future. Her rich vocal flavours flesh out Home Sweet Home, a sentimental song sung sweetly as if it's cold outside.

Subjugating melody to the natural music of language itself, her hardened-Dusty crooning, romantic dilemmas and pensive reflections satisfy an intensity and softness. Impressively cunning. Songs worth going back to.

Shelby Lynne - Love, Shelby

If one looks at the artwork it would seem the lipstick is on the wall. Her Glenn Ballard album, it tanked lower than her feelings and the dreamy Spector-esque brilliance of Your Lies has vanished. Instead she trades radio-friendly energy for those lush and rich textures that made her I Am... album so appealing. That is not to say Love, Shelby is not a brilliant record because it really is. Let's go down on this one then... Shelby Lynne is an unaribrushed Sheryl Crow who prefers Dusty Springfield to Stevie Nicks.

Opener Trust Me (which for once might induce me to do just that) signifies her directness from the offset. Sliding into the groove, Bend purifies the aroma of the I Am album. The beauty of Jesus On A Greyhound is Joan Osborne meets the Supremes. A rowdy chorus than bounces and rattles along with galloping intent. With a sturdy voice embracing her brains and a heavy dosage of emotion, Wall In Your Heart is softer and a low key delight. Proving she belts better than she croons, choice ballad The Killin' Kind reaches sensational volubility, the kind of soaring empathy I can never resist. It's deeper and crisper than anything else here.

The tough talking, rock-slanted headliner Ain't It the Truth will make anyone a believer. Suggesting gospel and blues, her raw timbre ignites on her cover of John Lennon's Mother. The morbid reality of how Lynne's parents died intensifies its meaning, but her competitive ability to cover with dignity was demonstrated on her 2008 Dusty tribute album Just A Little Lovin'. She takes an eternal sleep on Tarpoleon Napoleon, which is a bit of a plodder. Her smouldering manner finds more of a charge on I Can't Wait, and the very listeneable All of a Sudden You Disappeared smoothly ripples back into her mellow and pensive engagement.

Without the confessional attack of her peers, it must be acknowledged that whilst Ballard commits the semifamous Grammy winner to sharp and navigatable structures, his exclusion of her seemingly natural setting found on I Am deprives her somewhat. She sings her rock-not-country-not-pop songs with the gritty confusion they deserve, so don't believe the hype about the record frustrating her fans - unless they are retards, this is a solid C+ album with several A points or moments, although nothing peaks as high as the luminous soundtrack ballad The Killin' Kind. And floating in a river of differing directions (umpteen albums and counting), Lynne's heroic texture can be found in them all, this being no exception. Consistently credible and mildly enjoyable even when it struggles.

Lynne's new album Tears, Lies & Alibies is out in 12 days time - review coming soon.