According to St. Vincent aka Annie Clark, "Actor" is all about losers. Unhappy, lonely people who are struggling to tread water.

Hey, any album that has makes the emoesque line "paint the black hole blacker" work has got to have something special. And Clark's second solo album is a little lot of unhappiness and melancholy wrapped in woobling synth and vintage crackles, eruptions of blurry sound and beautiful vocals. It has a more unified sound than her debut, twisting catchy pop melodies into unpredictable streams of oddball indie music.

"Lover, I don't play to win/For the thrill until I'm spent/Paint the black hole blacker... What do I share?/What do I keep from all the strangers who sleep where I sleep," St Vincent sings wistfully over an angular little accordion-laced melody. About halfway through, it whirls off into echoing space while the synth spirals around her.

It's followed the ethereal, drum-saturated "Save Me From What I Want," fast-paced guitar pop laced with drawling vocals, and whirling fever dreams of slightly warped pop melodies -- they're soaked in woobly organ, cacophonous eruptions of sound, and interludes of dreamlike synth. The album winds down on a mellower note with the last trio of songs: the off-kilter piano pop of the "The Party" (which serves as an awe-inspiring climax), the crystalline fragility of "Just The Same But Brand New," and the wistful horn-saturated drift of "The Sequel."

Not to mention "The Bed," a delicate tangle of piano and twittering flute... until you realize that it's about children who have "gotta teach them all a lesson" ("them" being all-too-human monsters) with their "dear daddy's Smith and Wesson." Seriously: "Stop, right where you stand/We need a chalk outline if you can/Put your hands where we can see them please...")

Speaking just for myself, I like my pop music to either be energetic enough to not merely be catchy, or bizarre enough to stand out in a sea of mediocre, instantly forgettable pop hooks. You know, the garbage that pop tarts regularly put out Fortunately St Vincent is more than quirky enough to fit the bill -- and while her previous album "Marry Me" was a colourful splash of different sounds, "Actor" is a more subtle affair with a more melancholic sound.

Most of the songs are polished, smooth concoctions with lots of classical instrumentation -- piano, twittering flute, sharp drums, horns, and violins that switch between smooth instrumentals and squiggling bow-noises -- as well as weaving in some nimble guitar melodies. But those songs are given odd warps and bends thanks to the synth, which washes itself through every melody -- sweeps, squiggles, fuzzing, and the occasional rich organ.

And then back to the album's theme: losers. Lots of 'em. Okay, it's a little harsh to describe every song as being losercentric, but it isn't focused on happy people.

Most of the songs are imbued with a sense of everyday loneliness -- an unhappy trip home ("All of my old friends aren't so friendly/All of my old haunts are now all haunting me"), nighttime drives, parties that are over and broken loves. St. Vincent has a rich smooth voice, a knack for clever phrases ("my pockets hang out like two surrender flags") and a few angular snatches of poetry ("The unkissed boys and girls of paradise /Are lining up around the block/Back pockets full of dynamite...").

"Actor" is a gorgeously off-kilter pop album that sounds like a visit to a lonely urban street, full of rain and unhappy people. Bravo, St. Vincent.

When I heard Marry Me in '07, I was blown away. With one album, Annie Clark/St. Vincent became one of my treasured musical goddesses, along with Tori, Fiona and PJ. So you know where my tastes run, if I had to pick my gods, I'd go with Bowie, Radiohead and Prince. I knew this girl was special. I was heartened too, because my artists are getting older, and I was afraid I'd be stuck in an audial time loop, listening to the same outdated classics like my parents. Thirty here I come!

I looked forward to Actor for months. At first listen, I admit, I was a bit letdown. "The Strangers" was great: epic, cryptic, hypnotic, comparable to "Now, Now" from Marry Me. "Actor out of Work" got lodged in my head before the two and a half minutes were up. None of other songs grabbed my attention. After I played the album a few times, "Save me from What I Want," became my new favorite. The lyrics were deceptively deep and aching, like nothing on Marry Me. Then, I think it was "The Party." It didn't take long before I fell in love, again, with Annie/St. Vincent. As good as Marry Me is, Actor is ultimately more addictive, more compelling and more satisfying.

If I have one complaint about Marry Me, it's that the songs leave me somewhat cold. They're clever, fascinating, lovely. But I don't feel a strong connection with the artist because none of it seems particularly genuine. It's ironic that, on "Actor," I empathize with her despair, by far, the prevalent sentiment. Perhaps, Annie Clark is only comfortable exposing her soul while symbolically affecting an actor's part. For example, the bitterness in "Actor out of Work" is more jarring than in the intentionally harsh "Your Lips are Red" off Marry Me. I love "Paris is Burning," but "Black Rainbow" just hits me like a punch in the gut, when she sings lines such as "Let the children act like furniture/for the ladies of the lawn."

I didn't realize, at first, how dark this album is. It sounds so pretty, the instrumentation, her voice, fragile and angelic. It allures to devastate. Marry Me had the same affect. And, Marry Me is as seductive to the ears, perhaps more so. But once you get into Actor, you can't shake it off. When the lyrics are unabashedly twisted, as in "The Bed," "Stop right where you stand/ We need a chalk outline if you can," I don't smirk. I shudder. This album feels like a true work of art, from a captivating artist.

Actor is highly recommended. It's my favorite album of the year so far. But be warned, Annie Clark/St. Vincent is a sneaky one. If you've listened to her before, you know what I mean. It's not only that her songs grow on you like fungus. Her often deranged lyrics will work their way into your subconscious. All of a sudden, you'll be in the shower singing, "I'm crawling through landmines..." Oh well. Let the desolation overtake me. To quote "The Strangers:" "Paint the black hole blacker."

I had to give this record a second and third listen to get through its hermetically built composition. Do not get me wrong, after loving Animal Collective and Burial in all their deconstructive beauty I thought St. Vincent, a.k.a. Annie Clark, posed no different challenge but I was mistaken.

Actor is a record that needs to be listened on a mood. An open hearted mood that is. Masked behind a facade of pristine neatness, like the cover art would suggest, hide the richly constructed layers of music and revolting lyrics that yearn to be digested by parts. Annie's voice remains ia happy medium throughout the record, what in other circumstances would be a tedious noise here serves as an additional tool that keeps the dramatic arrangements glued together.

That's how Black rainbow never loses direction with the grandiose climax towards the end or The strangers achieves its goal of giving just a peek of what's in store. If there are any straight forward rock tracks they are lead single Actor out of work with its intense guitars and radio friendly structure, and the entrancing slow number The sequel.

Clark still indulges in showing how many instruments she is able to squeeze effectively into one song but compared to Marry me the effort sounds more focused this time. One can find it all, from classical to dubbed arrangements, and the genres explored as varied as the topics she boards with swift confidence. The result is not an immediate love affair nor is it an impossible task to overcome.

The best way to immerse yourself into it would be becoming an actor, just like she does, and soak in the ethereal with the electronic, the affection with the rage, the dream with the reality. While most of the times I try to connect the dots and find a reflection of what I experience in music, this time I put on the acting hat and visualized through her eyes the determination to become something I am not, the fear of acting on my true desires, the sensation of being trap in a life I do not want and the urge to escape, the complicated nature of womanhood. Anybody remembers that picture perfect cover?

In a year that has not even reached its middle point this record is one of the highlights and a strong contender for that premium list that will be remembered as a step forward from its predecessor.

This, the second album by versatile songwriter-lyricist-vocalist-instrumentalist Annie Clark, has all the virtues of her first album, Marry Me. The lyrics are smart, the melodies compelling, harmonies and backing interesting and original throughout. Clark has an interesting musical mind. Her songs abound in unexpected twists and hooks. The lyrics and melodies dig into your mind and linger there long after you've listened to them. And all the songs on her album are worth listening to. It's not a case of one or two good ones and a lot of filler. But I don't enjoy this album anywhere near as much as I did Marry Me, which I thought was one of the best albums -pop or otherwise--that I heard that year. The problem with Actor is the drums. There's too much of them and too often. Tracks 1 through 9 are driven by propulsive, often monotonous beats -sometimes echoing disco- and while they all fit, and form rhythmic counterparts to her quirky melodies and lyrics, over nine straight tracks they beat me down. It's too much, too monotonous. Her songs snake along sinuously and the drums --instead of catching her tricky ways with rhythm and accent in the songs themselves-- thump, thump, thump, thump along. It's a relief to hit Tracks 10 and 11: "Just the Same But Brand New" and "The Sequel," because the thump, thump is gone. Annie Clark is a true musical talent. This is a good album but it could have been better and she's good enough that it should have been.

I cannot comment on the differences between the first album and this one because i haven't heard the first yet, but i really do like this one. i usually like weird and by looking at the covers of her albums you can tell that she'll be a bit different than katy beiber or whatever vileness 80% of others listen to. im going to trust that people looking at st. vincent are not mainstream. this is great. now take the next step and check this lady out.

i cannot come up with anyone that she sounds like.

st. vincent is certified completely fresh.