inconsistent career – sparsely produced, melancholy gems in which the jokes grow more subtle and the self-inflicted jabs leave increasingly deeper scars.

The sardonically titled More Love Songs has Wainwright's customary chronicles of yet another failed relationship ("Your Mother and I," "Overseas Call"), along with its share of yuks (especially "I Eat Out," which should be heard by anyone who's ever dined alone in a restaurant). But the most striking moments on More Love Songs occur when Wainwright sticks a target-practice sign on his own head and fires. In the majestic song "The Back Nine," he compares his life and livelihood to a sluggish golf game, while "Synchronicity" finds him trying to seduce a woman who turns out to be gay. Venting his depression outward, he mocks feminism ("Man's World") and, in a fit of rage, blows up the earth ("Hard Day on the Planet," which has the classic line "Even Bob Geldof looks alarmingly thin").

In the most chilling track, the seething song "The Home Stretch," a downcast Wainwright unflinchingly examines a life filled with one-night stands, writer's block, bad reviews and "London broils and tuna melts/On dirty microphones." Describing his own manic live performances, he spits out, "But keep lifting up your left leg/And sticking out your tongue/There's nothing else that you can do/And you're too old to die young." Behind him, the electric guitar of coproducer Richard Thompson rumbles and squeals in a menacing call and response. While most of the tracks on More Love Songs offer an agreeable small-combo production – with Thompson and a crew of British folk veterans incorporating bluegrass ("Synchronicity"), jaunty circuslike jigs ("Unhappy Anniversary") and sleazy jazzbo sax and piano – the starkness of "The Home Stretch" demonstrates that Loudon Wainwright doesn't need much help to inflict serious damage – even if only on himself. (RS 498)

DAVID BROWNE