Aimee Mann, Bachelor #2

Aimee Mann's last album was about the fact that record labels behaved more or less like emotionally illiterate boyfriends, and that when you got right down to it, frustration and crushing disappointment felt pretty much the same at the hands of either. So much so that you could write a angry, disappointed, resiliently melodic set of songs that applied equally to both, and call it I'm With Stupid.

Lots of songwriters were doing the angry, disappointed thing in the post-Alanis goldrush, somewhat fewer were doing the resiliently melodic thing, but no-one put it together the way that Aimee did. I'm With Stupid was and is stunning. The economy with which the lyrics evoke precise feelings. ("Much as I would like to stay/The message light just blinks away/And while I'm here you won't push Play"--wow.) The unsappy, unsappable potency of the tunes, even four years on. The uncanny ear--well, both ears really--of producer Jon Brion, who knew deep in his bones, even before recording started, that a tack piano coming in on the second line of the third verse would absolutely *make* this song. And last but not least, the talents of guests like the inimitable Bernard Butler, the inimitable Glenn Tilbrook, and the inimitable Juliana Hatfield (although I suppose Mary Lou Lord does a pretty good job of imitating her).

Suffice it to say that following up Stupid was quite a task. Recognizing this, Mann's record companies--first Geffen and then Interscope--thoughtfully attempted to take the pressure off by conspiring to ensure that no such follow-up ever saw the light of day. Occasionally this meant rejecting the songs Mann submitted; other times, agreeing to put out the album and then cleverly merging with another enormous media conglomerate in such a way as to postpone its release indefinitely.

None of this helped to endear Mann towards record companies. Yet with the self-released Bachelor #2, Mann more or less resists the urge to tap that same vein. Instead, the record features songs about friends who have sold out ("It Takes All Kinds"), helped out ("Susan") or fucked up ("You Do"). Mann also rediscovers her knack for the empathic character study--see "Mr. Harris", from her solo debut Whatever, for the classic example. This time the subject is a young high school grad cowed by the prospect of her imminent freedom, in the catchy "Ghost World."

Of course, the cool dissections of (usually masculine) self-delusion are here as well. Lab partner Elvis Costello pitches in on "The Fall Of The World's Own Optimist"; his co-writing credit is about the extent of the guest star firepower on display this time round. Elvis's ornate lyrical contributions are immediately recognizable--not just because he is, well, inimitable, but because Mann's own lyrics are so direct, Raymond Carver to Costello's Martin Amis.

Musically, too, Bachelor #2 opts for directness. Mann's melodies are luminous, intuitive, so effortless they seem to have always existed. The Beatles are, once again, an obvious touchstone (they were really good at that effortlessly simple melody thing), although there are definite shades of Squeeze and Bacharach, the latter meriting a name-check on "It Takes All Kinds." The fuzzy electric guitars at the core of the last record have gracefully given way to acoustic guitar or piano chords on this one.

On the whole, this one is less rockin', more measured than the last. The listener gloried in the sheer variety of sounds crammed into each Stupid tune, but this time subtlety is the byword. Mann's production touches--and there are actually quite a few--subtly enhance rather than buoy the songs. But while the emphasis is on space, there are still occasional moments of, well…*arranging* genius, like the spine-tingling collapse of the facade of restraint in "Deathly."

At first, Bachelor #2 may leave you feeling like the whole thing is a little bit *too* smooth, a little too palatable, a little too VH-1. It's not. The lyrics are as tart as ever, the melodies are perhaps even more unassailable, and it won't be long before you'll start getting that little telltale pinprick as each song starts: "Ooh, I love this one!"