Beth Orton [ tickets ] isn't hiding behind William Orbit's dizzying techno beats or under the cover of a flurry of freakish jazz grooves any longer. In fact, she isn't hiding at all these days.

The single most striking thing about Orton's fourth album is just how bare it feels. This is Orton, warts and all, and she doesn't care if the music makes you dance or not. Oh, she wants a reaction. But she is looking to get it from somewhere other than your feet.

The songs are often gut-wrenchingly personal and, usually, as naked as newborn babies. Fortunately, she balances the rawness with a distinctly English sense of humor: "Worms don't dance," she sings on "Worms," an eerily Fiona Apple-like track that opens the album, "they haven't got the balls."

The apparent intention of this stripped-down album is to highlight Orton's ability as a songwriter. The overall feel is vastly different than 2003's "Daybreaker," which was a more polished studio set that sounded like an effort to endear the singer to Triple-A radio listeners.

Whereas "Daybreaker" was only mildly successful in its cause, "Comfort of Strangers" manages to hit a homerun.