To underpin her classic blue-eyed soul voice with electronic swoops and programmed drums is a very clever entrance into Sarah Jane Morris' Love and Pain. The swirling organ and sparse bass do their jobs as well to further bolster the acoustic guitar-driven opening track, "Mad Woman Blues." It serves as the signature, cornerstone piece setting the tone and kicking off a terrifically intriguing series of 12 tunes. These juxtaposed instrumental choices and themes weave in and out of the sonic landscape, making room for other just as titillating production elements such as world-tinged percussion grooves, guitars on the brink of distortion, way-hip sampled bits and beats, processed vocal parts, and more. Morris' smoky voice is the common thread holding it all together. Her performances dance from sultry to sassy in the blink of an eye (or the change of a track, as the case may be). From moment to moment, you might think of Garbage, Moby, Alison Moyet, or Primitive Radio Gods, or even reach as far as Erykah Badu. But while those works might seem similar, Love and Pain is something else altogether, and it's pretty darn cool.