Beth Orton: Comfort Of Strangers

Initially (and rightfully) pegged as the go-to voice for lulling electronic folk, Orton shone first via The Chemical Brothers' "Alive Alone," then broke through with 1996's Trailer Park, a stunning debut that bridged genres so fluidly that it essentially created a new one. But since then, Orton has casually wandered away from inorganic influences; with Comfort Of Strangers, produced by Wilco/Sonic Youth adjunct and post-rock/avant/whatever kingpin Jim O'Rourke, she eschews bloops and computerized swooshes in favor of more organic melancholy. Unlike her last album, 2002's too-moody Daybreaker, this one dilutes the downers with moments of joy: "I know I'm gonna cry," she sings, "but I'm gonna laugh about it all in time."

The bouncy opening track, "Worms," serves as a statement of purpose with its Apple-like tone and cadence: Even as it examines the low-lows, Comfort won't be bogged down in them. "Countenance" and "Shadow Of A Doubt" chug along on unobtrusive guitars, the latter building up a head of steam that suits Orton's engaging voice remarkably well. And when juxtaposed with a little more energy, the songs in which Orton crawls and moans sound even better: Three excellent mid-album tracks ("Absinthe," "A Place Aside," and "Safe In Your Arms") anchor the set with misty melancholy, and they punch harder as a lead-in to "Shopping Trolley," Comfort's shining moment. Orton trips briefly afterward—Comfort would've been stronger without the too-soulful "Heart Of Soul" and the too-sad "Feral Children"—but only in the quest for balance, which she almost always maintains.