The characters in Aimee Mann [ tickets ]'s songs have always faced tough luck and love, but never quite so literarily as on her new album, "The Forgotten Arm."

This self-dubbed "novella" links the sad tales of John and Caroline: he a struggling alcoholic and "King of the Jailhouse," and she, battling her conscious and need to stay with him, the "Queen of the Road." Meeting cute at a fairground when "cotton candy was king" in the first of 12 "chapters" all detailed in pulp-comic drawings for our view-along pleasure--things soon take a turn for the worst for both of them, to tearful departures, "going through the motions" and hopes for getting "clean" by Christmas.

Sure, it's bleak--we are talking about the auteur of the "Magnolia" soundtrack here--but, like those songs, there are such powerful turns of phrases and gorgeous trademark bridges, it's easy to forget we're listening to the story of an addict's life unravel. Mann's famously bitter wit is everywhere--from "Like a building that's been slated for blasting/I'm the proof that nothing is lasting," to the final song's "And we stayed in our Calvins/And we swore we'd be best friends/And I looked through the zoom lens/And thought you were beautiful."

And for every woeful remark or heart-wrenching image, there are enough mandolins, rich guitars and Beatle-esque hooks to get us through--sometimes, if you can believe it, even smiling.