Joan Osborne

Five years after her debut, Osborne finally returns with an album (in stores Tuesday) focused less on the proven pop formula of her hit "One of Us" and more on quirky, multi-layered rock. Producer Mitchell Froom adds offbeat texture to the singer's rich vocals. And Osborne makes some interesting song choices, from Gary Wright's now-obscure '70s hit "Love Is Alive" to Bob Dylan's "Make You Feel My Love."

Most people think of "the Motown sound" as the Supremes, Marvin Gaye or the Temptations. But the legendary R&B label's signature style also came from the music's ticking guitars, nimble bass lines and irresistible rhythms, played to hit-making perfection by the studio band known as the Funk Brothers. On Wednesday at the Wiltern, the surviving members celebrated their legacy with two lighthearted hours of songs and anecdotes featuring guest vocalists Joan Osborne, Darlene Love and Maxi Priest.

Before anthropomorphizing God and becoming a pop sensation, Osborne was a big-voiced but otherwise average blues-based bar-band singer, as documented in this collection of live tracks previously released through her indie label. No clues here in the songwriting (adequate), arrangements (unimaginative) or even singing (both Joplin and Raitt fixations) of the stardom to come. Inessential, except for fanatics. * Albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor) to four stars (excellent).

Five years after her debut, Osborne finally returns with an album (in stores Tuesday) focused less on the proven pop formula of her hit "One of Us" and more on quirky, multi-layered rock. Producer Mitchell Froom adds offbeat texture to the singer's rich vocals. And Osborne makes some interesting song choices, from Gary Wright's now-obscure '70s hit "Love Is Alive" to Bob Dylan's "Make You Feel My Love."

Despite her delightful hit single and all those Grammy nominations, Joan Osborne really is just one of us. Like 99% of the enthusiastic fans who saw her in concert Thursday at the Wiltern Theatre, the New York-based singer-songwriter's vision of pop music is fairly much patched together from the works of artists she admires. Over the course of her 90-minute set, she displayed echoes of the full-tilt boogie of Janis Joplin, the R&B sass of Etta James and the blues-pop snap of Bonnie Raitt.

You don't expect the woman who wrote and sings "Right Hand Man," a morning-after salute to a night of sex, to be reticent about much of anything, but in this case, Joan Osborne isn't going all the way. The 33-year-old Kentucky native has been talking about her song "Crazy Baby," in which she encourages a suicidal friend to stick around.

I must take exception to Robert Hilburn's review ("The Comfort Zone," June 8) of the Joan Osborne concert. I saw her show the following night and couldn't disagree more with his lukewarm assessment of her performance. Admittedly, because Osborne doesn't yet have a lot of original material, she had to pad her set, and I thought that a couple of songs she chose didn't suit her well. But to equate Joan Osborne with the no-talent Sheryl Crow is absurd. The six people in my party were wowed by Joan Osborne, and we know generic Hootie pop when we see it. Joan Osborne, "uninspiring"?

Joan Osborne went home empty-handed from the Grammy Awards show, but her five nominations sparked sales of her "Relish" album. It has has moved into the national Top 10 for the first time and is No. 3 on The Times' Southern California album chart.

Robert Hilburn needs to learn an important distinction about popular music: Some performers are artists, some are entertainers and a select few are both. In his reviews of two recent concerts, he took the Mavericks ("A Little Bit Country, a Little Bit Oldies Revue," June 3) and Joan Osborne ("The Comfort Zone: Joan Osborne Echoes the Greats but Doesn't Make Her Own Statement," June 8), two decidedly retro acts, to task for not being groundbreaking enough. This is akin to wondering why Wynton Marsalis doesn't do a rap record.

Most people think of "the Motown sound" as the Supremes, Marvin Gaye or the Temptations. But the legendary R&B label's signature style also came from the music's ticking guitars, nimble bass lines and irresistible rhythms, played to hit-making perfection by the studio band known as the Funk Brothers. On Wednesday at the Wiltern, the surviving members celebrated their legacy with two lighthearted hours of songs and anecdotes featuring guest vocalists Joan Osborne, Darlene Love and Maxi Priest.

While most of us working stiffs were trying to wrap things up before the holiday weekend, Michael Keaton was hanging out at the Viper Room last week, waiting for his cue to announce the next performer. The artist was Joan Osborne, who performed a show so secret only a handful of fans were there, and apparently they witnessed a terrific show by the young singer.

Before anthropomorphizing God and becoming a pop sensation, Osborne was a big-voiced but otherwise average blues-based bar-band singer, as documented in this collection of live tracks previously released through her indie label. No clues here in the songwriting (adequate), arrangements (unimaginative) or even singing (both Joplin and Raitt fixations) of the stardom to come. Inessential, except for fanatics. * Albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor) to four stars (excellent).

I must take exception to Robert Hilburn's review ("The Comfort Zone," June 8) of the Joan Osborne concert. I saw her show the following night and couldn't disagree more with his lukewarm assessment of her performance. Admittedly, because Osborne doesn't yet have a lot of original material, she had to pad her set, and I thought that a couple of songs she chose didn't suit her well. But to equate Joan Osborne with the no-talent Sheryl Crow is absurd. The six people in my party were wowed by Joan Osborne, and we know generic Hootie pop when we see it. Joan Osborne, "uninspiring"?

Robert Hilburn needs to learn an important distinction about popular music: Some performers are artists, some are entertainers and a select few are both. In his reviews of two recent concerts, he took the Mavericks ("A Little Bit Country, a Little Bit Oldies Revue," June 3) and Joan Osborne ("The Comfort Zone: Joan Osborne Echoes the Greats but Doesn't Make Her Own Statement," June 8), two decidedly retro acts, to task for not being groundbreaking enough. This is akin to wondering why Wynton Marsalis doesn't do a rap record.

Despite her delightful hit single and all those Grammy nominations, Joan Osborne really is just one of us. Like 99% of the enthusiastic fans who saw her in concert Thursday at the Wiltern Theatre, the New York-based singer-songwriter's vision of pop music is fairly much patched together from the works of artists she admires. Over the course of her 90-minute set, she displayed echoes of the full-tilt boogie of Janis Joplin, the R&B sass of Etta James and the blues-pop snap of Bonnie Raitt.

Joan Osborne went home empty-handed from the Grammy Awards show, but her five nominations sparked sales of her "Relish" album. It has has moved into the national Top 10 for the first time and is No. 3 on The Times' Southern California album chart.

While most of us working stiffs were trying to wrap things up before the holiday weekend, Michael Keaton was hanging out at the Viper Room last week, waiting for his cue to announce the next performer. The artist was Joan Osborne, who performed a show so secret only a handful of fans were there, and apparently they witnessed a terrific show by the young singer.

The night's biggest winner was also the shyest. Alanis Morissette declined to address the backstage press after the show, leaving it to her producer and co-writer, Glen Ballard, to field questions for her. "She's overwhelmed," he said, explaining her absence. "But she's so pleased that what we created together has found a resonance out there. The reaction has been so positive."

The night's biggest winner was also the shyest. Alanis Morissette declined to address the backstage press after the show, leaving it to her producer and co-writer, Glen Ballard, to field questions for her. "She's overwhelmed," he said, explaining her absence. "But she's so pleased that what we created together has found a resonance out there. The reaction has been so positive."

You don't expect the woman who wrote and sings "Right Hand Man," a morning-after salute to a night of sex, to be reticent about much of anything, but in this case, Joan Osborne isn't going all the way. The 33-year-old Kentucky native has been talking about her song "Crazy Baby," in which she encourages a suicidal friend to stick around.