A Sense Of Vonda

Though known to couch-potatoes merely as the new singer-songwriter who brings welcome interludes to the Ally McBeal television series, By 7.30 is actually Vonda Shepard's fifth album. As expected, her songs are built around the lyrical self-centredness that fuels the lucrative US psychotherapy industry and turns the 'I can feel more deeply than anyone else' concept into a competitive sport of Olympic proportions.

But, as soon as you learn to live with all that, Shepard's songs, and her relatively unaffected and impassioned vocal style take hold.

Shepard never sounds as unconvincingly angsty as Alanis and doesn't have the melodic majesty of Joni. Instead, she's more a Bruce Hornsby/Carly Simon for the '90s, with some of the despair of a Jackson Browne added to the stew.

'This Is Crazy Now' is a real gem, a song that would be at home in the set lists of solo Irish singers of both sexes, as would 'You And Me'. The Joni-esque 'Mercy', about examining one's self-worth, uses a jaunty Eastern section to escape briefly beyond the boundaries of predictability, in the process making you wish that Shepard would take more musical risks. Ironically, that track is followed by 'Clear', with its unexpected approach in the percussion department, and in which she reflects on the need to escape the restrictions we all put on ourselves. There's a lesson there if she's willing to heed it.

'Confetti' rocks like Rubber Soul-era Beatles, 'Cross To Bear' is a delicate ballad about failed love and she is joined by The Indigo Girls for 'Baby Don't You Break My Heart Slow'. It's all impressively done, but Vonda may need to expand her musical vocabulary to achieve all she is capable of. Maybe she deserves her own series?