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Album Review: Regina Spektor "Far" (Sire)

You'd swear that Regina Spektor was your wisest storytelling grandparent--based on her detailed observations of mortality, human nature, religion and war. She's more like a best friend when she makes silly dolphin sounds or pounds her keyboard and sings about digital technology and modern sexual liaisons. For her third major-label album, "Far," Spektor plays both roles and comes across more profound, amusing and undeniably brilliant than ever.

Guided by lively musical twists and immediately engaging melodies and ideas, "Far" visits deathbeds, beaches, meat markets and the human psyches of everyday people. Balanced by cheery and cathartic tunes, "Far" is blunt, refreshing and bold. Accompanying Spektor's piano are myriad sounds that rise and diminish throughout the course of the album. As with her previous releases, she fearlessly mingles vocal beat-box rhythms, robust choral harmonies and cute or intimate whispers.

Sifting through the connections between science and love, and memories and emotions, Spektor addresses life experiences on multiple levels. "Blue Lips," one of the most intense selections, is a somber, poetic ballad during which Spektor makes metaphorical statements about life and declares: "Blue is the most human color." Not stopping there, "Human of the Year" and "Laughing With" confront sin, God and soul-searching moments. She tackles these controversial themes with self-assurance and conviction.

Aggressive and urgent, "Machine" is what it might sound like if Spektor collaborated with Karen O and Gwen Stefani. It's a provocative strut, with Spektor speaking and wailing about the future and her pre-war apartment. "I am downloaded daily," she staunchly states. "Folding Chair" is a loveable contemplation at the seaside during which she gleefully sings an off-handed line to rally all womankind: "I have a perfect body but sometimes I forget." Keeping things light and spunky, "Dance Anthem of the 80's" hints at the era's new-wave keyboard bleeps while Spektor mischievously talks about a neighborhood spot where guys and girls watch each other dine--when deep down they really just want to hook up.

With "Far," Spektor creates universally relative songs that are a solid combination of compassion, wit and clever intuition.