Welcome to the sounds and poetry of recovery and redemption. On
Beth Hart's third album in six years, the singer/songwriter has taken her already lean, rootsy approach to writing, scaled it back to skillfully reflect what is essential in a song, and then, as is her trademark, poured the very grain of her being into each performance. On
Leave the Light On,
Hart speaks through unapologetically classic, mainstream rock music so gritty, edgy, and true (informed by the gospels according to
the Rolling Stones,
the Faces, and
Janis Joplin), it's virtually unlike anything out there at the moment --
the White Stripes not withstanding. "Lifts You Up," the opener, uses one of the finest anthemic R-A-W-K hooks in a chorus since
Delaney & Bonnie, employing muddy ringing buzzsaw guitars, upright piano, bass, drums, and hand percussion to celebrate the notion of life on life's terms: "It lifts you up it puts you down/Then it feeds you life, then it lets you drown/While it holds your heart then it slowly tears you/And you know life is what I mean." The title track is the first real power ballad of the new century. It is the most searing cut on the set. Virtually every word is loaded with dark confession and emotion, but unlike some of her peers who also explore the sewers and gutters of human ruination and soul death,
Hart is far from content to remain there. Buoyed by her own piano, assorted keyboards emulating strings,
Greg Leisz's pedals, strummed guitars, and a rhythm section,
Hart's words seek the edges of the cage and bust forth, counting on the possibility of change inherent in every moment. The lyrics, centered around the fear of being alone after a life of pain -- absorbed and meted out -- are scalding in their indomitable hope.