Jewel, 0304.

(Atlantic)

Just when we thought Jewel Kilcher had turned the corner from folksy chanteuse to mature singer/ songwriter, along comes 0304, erasing all one's preconceptions, indeed the career planning that critics think they're so good at, about Jewel, who she is, and what the hell she's up to. Okay, if you haven't heard this one, hold on to your hat: enlisting hot producer Lester Mendez (Enrique Iglesias, Santana, Shakira), Jewel debuts on 0304 as a cheesy dance diva, the album a cross-pollination among Madonna, Shakira, Britney, Christina, Mariah, J-Lo, and all the rest. When one turns such a radical corner, one's artistic persona is laid on the line--the risks are substantial, the rewards may or may not be merely record sales.

Jewel explains in the liner notes, "I wanted to make a record that was a modern interpretation of big band music. A record that was lyric-driven, like Cole Porter stuff, that also had a lot of swing." Well, folks, 0304 isn't big band music or Cole Porter, and the lyrics play second banana to Mendez's techno arrangements. Jewel honey, it's a dance record. Lyrically, it's mostly boyz'n'gurlz, a bit of sermonizing ("America"), and a skosh of Jewel's former self, the crusading folkie ("Stand"). Funny, tho', it's the one dance album that I can listen to over and over--Jewel's pipes are among the loveliest around, proving their emergence as an instrument of power and beauty on 2001's This Way was no fluke. Whether it's "I can do this, too" or "Hmm, this seems like fun" or whatever, 0304 boogies from start to finish. It may or may not be a great album, but I wanna hear what she does for an encore.