workers of the world"), there lurks a nicely lilting version of his or their song that makes whatever energy or style it once had nothing but a fond memory.

They can also find out that, as an extra-personal touch. Joanie has done a little friendly modifying of their lyrics wherever she either saw fit or forgot the originals (which, for her information or anyone else's, are printed in their copyrighted entirety right inside the jacket). For one small example, pick up on her big Top-40 single and ask yourself where that "so much cavalry" business ever came from. "So much" cavalry? "The" Robert F. Lee?

The overriding tone of this collection is the kind of seriocomic piety that even the Church has been unable to foist onto its audience for three or four centuries now, and the predominating sentiment is that whoever you are, be it "Salt of the Earth." "Last, Lonely and Wretched," even David or Gabriel, the good sister is behind you all the way. The full Bae/catalogue includes more than enough timeworn proof that good intentions and good sounds don't necessarily go a-marchin' hand-in-hand. What it all adds up to on the new album is a score of unimaginatively-selected tunes that are competently arranged (by Norbert Putnam). monotonously performed, and then nicely padded out by an ace Nashville crew. It's a formula Joan's relied on before, and it's not improving any with age.

Given all that, the album's scattered high points certainly come as happy surprises. The uptempo version of "Help Me Make It Through The Night" is a solidly good one; "Put Your Hand In The Hand" seems to show greater conviction than most of the tracks. Even some of the original compositions ("Outside The Nashville City Limits," "Gabriel and Me") are tuneful and free-flowing, though the lyrics sometimes border on a predictably maudlin note. The version of Jesse Winchester's "Brand New Tennessee Waltz" (and catch that sexy little "take it, Norm ..." in the middle) radiates a certain down-home charm. There are other good moments, but not nearly enough of them.

If a pattern is emerging, and one certainly is, it's that Joan's both a lot more convincing and a lot better off singing about her own soul than she ever has been bewailing the fates of countless lost ones. However you look at it, it's a lot more palatable being in the presence of a sweet-voiced veteran singer than it is to take any lessons from an