Everywhere one turns, both young women and young men are tuning in to Ally McBeal. It's a tube show that walks on the outer edges of daily life, a wild mixture of realism and the nigh- fantastic. And in each engrossing episode (Summer finds it now in re-runs) we hear Vonda's haunting, lilting, songs—giving the characters' experiences their many-sidedness as well as a taste of Vonda's natural strength, a deep-going passion, an ability to endure.

Searchin' My Soul, the first cut, and a song Vonda wrote herself, has an anthem quality, but a suave, living anthem --no oom pah pah-- but one that seduces its listeners into seizing the here and now. The birth of this present moment, in this song, is what Vonda celebrates. Escape with her from the clammy fingers of the past. Take a deep inward breath –in..in.. toward self. Hear Vonda hail the launch of a kind of living that's ready to live.

Ask the Lonely is remindful of a universal experience, not without subtly communicating that one hasn't truly lived without having known the heartbreak of losing a loved one; a person irreplaceable. World-sadness is an essential ingredient of beauty. So said Dietrich--who believed that a face that fails to communicate some immeasurable sorrow—understanding the prevalence of human loss, lacks that fullness of life-look that must finally complete any stunning beauty's face. The brightest laughter, in other words, also harbors the saddest smile.

Walk Away Renee has a fine guitar sequence. Hooked on a Feeling is well executed; better than the original, but with no more lyrical depth than the original. But so what. If there must be repeat lines— like hooked on a feeling— they may not work for everybody. This is no reflection, however, on Vonda's style or verve which is always intensely listenable.

You Belong to Me—oh —what a song! As for its title line, though, it's a "weak" sentiment since nobody owns anybody. But partially forgive this little drawback, please, because—once again the song's sentiment is universal. It is much bigger than the word "belong." And this is a very beautiful song. Its geography winds world-wide too:

See the pyramids along the Nile
Watch the sunrise on a tropic isle

But like the old Sting refrain, "Every breath you take…I'll be watching you," – a virtual stalker-lover's serenade, You Belong to Me—with its repeat-title-lyric-- would seem persistently possessive if it were not that Vonda Shepard expands the meaning of "belong". She turns everything in this rendition into what is palatable and seductive.

The Wildest Times of the World has a more agreeable title—though the (once again) universal sentiments hardly suggest a totally cheery person. "Let's stay together in this lonely and crazy life." Such a pick-up line would fail, wouldn't it, as a "charmer's invitation" to any happier soul.? In any case, Vonda Shepard rules over an emotional empire that cherishes poignancy as its wealth. And when she chipperishly sings "Hey, hey, hey," she's sounds sexy, which—to some-- may seem odd for a male homosexual reviewer to say. But hey, sexy is a matter of taste.

Someone You Use . Another universal take. Vonda's too good at this expansiveness schitk, nes't pas? In this cut, the using of others only for our own purposes gets some able lyrical clarifications.

I'm just someone you run to
Someone you use

Next, The End of the World, a song on jukes and radios every few moments in '62, evokes a nostalgia for the past, as well as a cheerless sentiment--a kind of romantic's Armageddon. Vonda does the song great justice, even so..even though the lyrics suggest the mind-state of a rather stationary bloke:

I wake up in the morning and I wonder why everything's the same as it was

Thank goodness Vonda's rendition is not the same as appealed mostly to losers when the original version of this song dominated the airwaves. The world comes to an end, claims the song, on the very moment the singer's lover says "goodbye". Please.

Tell Him, with its simple list of do's if a gal or guy is to snag a man, gives off pre-Cosmopolitan vibes. The lyrics: aren't they Helen Gurley Brown cover-lines? This song recommends the shoring up of relationships with glib promises of eternal companionship and forever-love. In other words, empty rhetoric to appeal to the insecurities of the "need to hear it even if it isn't so" crowd. Vonda, however, bounces and balances these manipulative-positive lyrics perfectly.

A truly stellar song on this album is The Neighborhood. Not everybody has lived in one—there are military brats, don't forget—but for those who have lived in a neighborhood, Vonda's has meaning. While haunting, it is upbeat. Its poignancy is fierce.

Will You Marry Me shows just how insane the desire to marry can become. There is evidence of psychic sado-masochism, in fact, and references that seem to place a prospective spouse near-leveled with the deity: "Strange behavior from my savior." Even so, Vonda sings this matrimonial mumbo-jumbo like a goddess.

It's in His Kiss, a honky tonk classic, barely hides its pretence to powers of divination. Other evidences of true love are expunged in favor of only one tell-tale sign: "his kiss." Even so, this is a great great song, an outpouring of suspect honky-tonk wisdom. Vonda Shepard's version, as usual, is best.

I Only Want to Be With You—admits that its title-sentiment is "crazy but true". Lyrically, this is surely a loser's song—mainly because its lays stress on "only"—too narrow a focus of action "only to be with you"—to give evidences of a many-sided or more-interesting personality blooming.

In Vonda's Maryland, her audience—the romantic, a buffeted-about person—is celebrated by describing a distressing state of consciousness that somehow lovingly—she resolves in song. The singer in this piece will never be what her daddy wanted her to be, no, nor fulfill her mama's hopes either. But she can sing la la la la la la la la.

And hoo boy! this beautiful woman, Vonda Shepard, sure can sing!