Having been a longtime casual Suzanne Vega listener who never liked her enough to actually purchase an album (though "Solitude Standing" and "99.9F" have seared themselves in my brain through listening to them on others' stereos), this album caught me completely off-guard. It is so smart, so wise, so sensual--God, is it sensual--that you may find yourself constantly wanting to replay certain tracks; did she really turn that phrase so cleverly? ("Caramel" "No Cheap Thrill" and "My Favorite Plum" rank high in that respect.) What are those mysterious instruments she has backing her up? ("Lolita" and "The World Before Columbus" spring to mind.) How is she using her voice--never a powerful or especially dramatic one till now--in such enigmatic ways, with so many sly nuances? ("Stockings" "Headshots") Each song is a gem when listened to on its own, but the cumulative effect of the entire album is to feel as if one is sinking deeper and deeper into a mystery--Vega is Everywoman and none you've ever known before, and every door she opens leads to another, smaller door in the labyrinth. This is unquestionably one of the best albums by a female singer-songwriter in the 1990's, ranking up there with the best of Sheryl Crow, Sam Phillips, Liz Phair, Fiona Apple, Alanis Morrissette, Madonna, et all. Vega, cooler than any of them, bewitches so dextrously because she does not seek our approval; she is already queen of her own dominion, and we have the rare privilege of being allowed a fleeting, enigmatic glimpse into it before she quietly and firmly locks the gate and pockets the key, smiling inscrutably to herself. Go, be seduced.