Tribal Wild Woman, an essay in primal female desire: "I knew a girl once upon a time/ She grew into a werewolf/ That monster was all mine/ She was incarcerated inside my skin"). The real stunners, though, are the slow-burners: Gypsy in Me and Wicked Way are nuanced blues numbers, the latter made deliciously sleazy by B-movie trumpet fills; the delicacy of Little Pixie, inspired by first-time motherhood, is charming rather than sickly. This album is no time capsule; it's fresh and bracing.
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