Leah Andreone
Veiled (RCA)

The thing about female singer-songwriters with introspective habits is that they always do something annoying - whether it's scream (Bush), shriek (Bjork), swear (Morrissette) or croak (most of them).

Leah Andreone occasionally goes off at a Tori Amos type high-pitched tangent but, for the most part, hers is a palatable style that at times sounds not unlike the mature sister of The Bangles' Susannah Hoffs. Sure, she's not as macho as Alanis or as much the guitar chick as Sheryl Crow - but neither is she quite as holy holy as Joan Osborne. So she deserves some applause for having managed to poise herself on the fence with an album that stays away from processed cheddar rock, but is nonetheless filled with the kind of subtle commercial balladry that Heart and Kiss have been getting wrong for years.

Check the sleeve notes though and you realise it's producer Rick Neigher who probably deserves the kingsize portion of the critical pie. He co-wrote all the songs, played bass, electric guitars, keyboards, organ andÉharmonica. So you do wonder whether Leah Andreone is anything more than your average cover girl. But it's hard not to give her the benefit of the doubt.

You Make Me Remember and Come Sunday Morning are the stand-outs, due to their acoustic finery and classic rock build-up, while the rest of the selection is mellow, never bland. Andreone is at her best when not trying to convince herself she's making Little Earthquakes II - that's when her clear-as-a-bell delivery really rings true.

But do we really NEED another wide-eyed girl vocalist with a lyrical library that stays on the psychiatrist's couch? Maybe not, but Andreone works out her "issues" without sounding at all like Oprah Winfrey's mezzo-soprano music therapist.