Love in the Time of Science, Emiliana Torrini's debut album, was a disappointing affair. articulated through the production of Tears for Fears' Roland Orzabal, the electronic wash was conservative when juxtaposed with Torrini's seraphic performance. she had proven her vocal prowess on albums by Paul Oakenfold and Thievery Corporation, to say nothing of being part of The Lord of The Rings' score, but her own identity was never established outside of her guest appearances. she sounded lost on her own outing, and seemingly bereft of any qualitative emotional capsule she had as a vocalist-for-hire, Love in the Time of Science simply broke down.

Fisherman's Woman attempts a far more intimate and visceral personality, the hollowed acoustic air a rebuttal to the Homogenic-lite posture of her first album. little doubt existed about her vocal precocity when she first emerged, having raked a formidable career as a freshly-minted 20-something year old. but that precocity was mechanical, and as listeners we couldn't make the same positive conclusion about her as an artist overall. now at 23 she inches closer to an exciting artistic independence, channeling more complex emotional signatures through her already puissant vocals. and while Fisherman's Woman proves to be a solid, enrapturing listen, there's still a noticeable schism between Torrini and the music itself.

'Nothing Brings Me Down' begins the album with a lithe acoustic guitar and Torrini whispering the chorus, her almost blithe performance giving ample charm to the daydreamy indifference she wishes to convey: "The windows are open, the flies are in/Nothing brings me down/The phones are off the music's on/Nothing brings me down." lead single 'Sunny Road' finds her singing a letter to an anonymous friend, her penmanship simple, heartwarming, and, quite frankly, just damn adorable. she's rid her tendency to be breathy, her notes rising clearly and fixing themselves to every song and that helps immensely to replace the gapes of an acoustic album. she's far more enlivened and more of her own being.

the compositions as a whole are still subject to an unfortunate asymmetry, Torrini's voice still jutting to the fore quite often. it's not as acute as it was on her debut, but the musical space sometimes turns hum-drum acoustic, merely trying prove its necessity by virtue of its existence. 'Heartstopper' proceeds with light strums on an electric guitar before breaking for the chorus, but the space feels dreadfully underused. it's the type of formula from which musicians such as PJ Harvey and Beth Orton have made their careers because they dictated precisely the speed and size of the song. 'Next Time Around' proceeds with a piano movement, an area that has been maximized by the likes of Tori Amos and Fiona Apple. Torrini doesn't play any instruments and that leads to a few gaps in the music's conduct.

but c'mon, that voice! it's mellifluous and lacks any corrosive accents, having won over anyone with a decent set of ears. from here on out the problems can only diminish in importance; Torrini has come out on Fisherman's Woman with a fleshiness that can only augur better things. it'd be nice if she had far more involvement in the music's direction so that those unfortunate holes of background noise could be plugged, but she has ample time to do so.