's releases albums so infrequently that when they arrive, they're an event -- and the six years between and were certainly eventful for her. The day was released, nearly died; eventually, she was diagnosed with an immune disorder that hindered her ability to tour in support of the album. She then discovered she was pregnant with the son she gave birth to in 2015, and creative differences with her longtime label led her to release on . These are the kind of life-changing events that, with any luck, make a person stronger. If is anything to go by, must be unstoppable. She packs the enormity of her experiences into songs that are fearless in their starkness, and a far cry from 's sleek electro-rock. This time, focuses her production and arrangements on her voice, which has become the instrument her songs have always needed. A little raspier than before and as remarkably emotive as always, it's so full of living that no flashy accompaniment is needed on songs such as the title track. One of the album's briefest and most beautiful moments, "Wanderer's" heart-melting harmonies grace a song that could be an eternal lament handed down for generations. Throughout the album, feels completely in command of the folk, blues, and soul that have lurked around the margins of her music since the beginning and made up the heart of . Even as she says goodbye on almost every track, from "Me Voy"'s sultry regret to the serenely devastating "Horizon," returns to sounds that are in her blood. She subtly modernizes these traditions while tapping into their timeless power: "Black" is another in her series of songs about friends who have died, and the way contrasts folk- and blues-based mythologizing with a very modern streak of survivor's guilt makes it one of her most spellbinding. "Robbin Hood," with its vicious cycle of literal and spiritual theft, could have been written in the shadow of the Great Depression or the Great Recession. Conversely, also incorporates 2010s touches in ways that sound classic and, above all, genuine. On "Woman," she and bid a liberating goodbye to others' expectations, their voices combining in an evocation of the spirit of womanhood (although 's confession "The doctor said I was not my past/He said I was finally free" is utterly, poignantly personal). Similarly, she hones 's "Stay" -- already an unusually naked and free-flowing pop ballad -- to its most soul-baring parts, and its spine-tingling beauty is another testament to the strength it takes to be so vulnerable. As tender as it is uncompromising, is exactly the album needed to make at this point in her career and life. It's some of her most essential music, in both senses of the word. ~ Heather Phares