Although she owes more to Joni Mitchell and Joan Armatrading than to Mary J. Blige and Natalie Cole, Rebekah makes music that is direct and fastidious. She doesn't waste time refuting the usual archetypes of black femininity; they simply don't exist in her world. Rather than worrying about who she isn't, she spends her debut recording defining who she is. She delves into relationships on "Hey Genius," in which she declares her fatigue of vain men, and on "Be Your Own," in which she advises her guy "to stop trying to be my man and instead be your own." She describes her détente with your mother's strict religious mores on "Sin So Well," and "Love Song" is about her struggle to counsel a neighbor who is suffering spousal abuse. Rebekah sings these songs with a small, shiny voice that coils inwardly and leaps out with a variety of effects. On "Keep It a Secret" and "I Wish I Could Believe Me," she embodies a rocker's insolence; on the title track and "Pining," she maintains a jazz singer's precision, and on "Be Your Own" and "Cardboard Boxes," she has a soul diva's sauciness. All of her songs possess a sophisticated sense of dynamics. Where she fails is in the mawkishness of "Little Black Girl," and the album sometimes does seem a shade precious. However, her emergence marks the growth of an eclectic bunch who are embracing a broad spectrum of musical backgrounds as their own. After all, the best soul music is about the search for truth, and in Janet Jackson's "Got 'Til It's Gone," Q-Tip reminded everyone, "Joni Mitchell never lies."