Colvin Rises From Love's Ashes

Shawn Colvin Tuesday

Park West Her covers of other people's songs were swell, but her originalscontinue to define what makes her special.

Shawn Colvin likes to joke about employing the "disaster motif"for her love songs. And, indeed, going back to her early gem,"Shotgun Down the Avalanche," the sophisticated modern folkie hasassociated romantic need with destruction. If lovestruck Carole Kingonce felt the earth move under her feet, Colvin feels it pulling herdown.

Performing solo Tuesday at Park West, Colvin was at it again. Alove song from an upcoming album invoked the sinking of the Titanicand the fall of Rome.

Leave it to her, though, to convert despair to hope. Is it theradiance and agile beauty of her voice that pulls that rabbit out ofher hat? Is it the vibrance of her words? Is it the combination ofspunk and waifish vulnerability in her presence, which suggestsJennifer Jason Leigh on a good day?

Whatever the reason, when Colvin sang, "Cross the dark distanceand lay down your guns; For Rome has fallen and morning has begun,"the lyrics conjured not morning-after ashes, but sunlight and thepossibilities of a new day.

Keyed to Colvin's recent album, "Cover Girl," the show wasdominated by other people's tunes. Her sources, ranging fromsongwriting eccentrics Willis Alan Ramsey and Tom Waits to popcraftsmen Sting and Crowded House, reflected an expansiveness that isrelatively new to folk music.

She is a fine interpreter. Her version of Jimmy Webb's "TheseOld Walls" was simultaneously sweet and haunting, and her take onWaits' "Heart of Saturday Night" breathed strength into longing.This singer suggests a depth of experience well beyond herthirtysomething-ness.

That said, it's a little early in the game for her to be relyingso extensively on cover versions. As we are reminded by "Live '88,"a recently released, small-label CD documenting solo performancesfrom that year (plus three from 1990), Colvin is most special whensinging her own songs.

There is an intensely personal element in her vocals thatdemands the intensely personal viewpoint of lines such as "I went outwalking on the streets of the dead; With a chip on my shoulder; And avoice in my head."

Moving alluringly from a bell-like clarity up top to a bluesilyattractive gruffness down below, hers is a voice that stays in ourheads as well. The dust of disaster has never cleared morebeautifully.