She's the spit of Uma Thurman and has the wit of a Germaine Greer. Not quite your average rock chick, really. Whitechocolatespaceegg is Liz Phair's third album, and as its polysyllabic moniker might suggest, there's more on this woman's mind than how to best arrange crotchets and quavers.

Phair has never been one to hide behind vaporous vocals or vapid lyrics. Her bald eroticism and funky take on life have always been enough to set her apart from the flotsam and jetsam of wannabees who hanker after the limelight and try to crowd her out.

This third album marks a distinct change, in both music and words from her previous, acoustically-driven releases. Then again, it's been quite a while since she last ventured forth (some five years) and in the interim, she's gone and had a baby - and not unpredictably, ruminated on the meaning of life.