P.J. Harvey, Let England Shake.

Compared another artist to P.J. Harvey the other day, so I figured I better tackle this one next, year-old as it is. I often wait a few months to finally purchase a P.J. Harvey album. I want the intellectual hype to wear off, and be able to appreciate it fresh. But fair is fair—it was the Year’s Best lists that reminded me that I shouldn’t forget to check this out. (Plus its selection as a $5 Amazon special last month.)

This is the most well-rounded and diverse PJ Harvey album in years, yet it still has an overarching single sensibility, as we’ve come to expect from her in recent years. It’s just that this time, the atmosphere isn’t sonic. Not a whisper, a la White Chalk. Not a scream, a la Dry or Rid of Me. Not a contrasting travelogue, a la Stories from the City/Sea. The sensibility is social here. It’s political. It’s philosophical rather than punky or poetic.

After ten or so albums, there’s no longer the old shock inherent in PJ Harvey’s vocal style, despite her changing it up unexpectedly and abruptly. Here, it’s the ideas that assault. And the production: A couple of songs, such as “England,” sound like a bruised Kate Bush. The opening of “The Glorious Land” has an army bugle mixed into it, in a manner that deliberately blindsides and upsets.

My favorite bit, “The Words That Maketh Murder”: PJ Harvey wailing, over a barely musicalized backbeat, “What if I take my problems to the United Nations?,” turning the comical Eddie Cochran line from “Summertime Blues” into a plaintive wail of vulnerability, victimization and just plain perplexity.