The problem with being as consistently good as Kristin Hersh is that people eventually stop recognizing your accomplishments. In the twenty years since she formed the Throwing Muses, at age 14, Hersh has produced an astonishing body of work; drawing on Appalachian folk songs just as heavily as on the Ramones, her songs, as she puts it, "express themselves strongly." On her third solo album, Sunny Border Blue, Hersh plays all of the instruments and produces herself to stunningly ferocious effect. Even without a band behind her -- the Muses split in 1997 due to financial difficulties -- Hersh can fill a room with her voice, with quiet exactitude or harsh anger. Songs like the album-opening "Your Dirty Answer" lay bare wounds which sound raw: "It's not my fault/It's not my fault you don't love me," she sings with seemingly righteous indignation, before the next phrase admits its own culpability, adding, "When I'm drunk." The floral album title promises a silver lining, and one is occasionally visible. "Spain" begins with a lazy, jazz-guitar evocation of a holiday abroad, with Hersh recalling "Blindfolded kissing/looking for the truth in your tiny moves."

Halfway through the song, though, the one man band takes over and the bile comes back. In a passive-aggressive line rivaling Bob Dylan's "I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes/You'd know what a drag it is to see you," Hersh sings, "I wanted you to sleep with her and hate yourself/Instead of me." Some see too much melodrama in Hersh's lyrics, but she's rarely less than razor sharp in her observations; she insists that the bad stuff in her songs is only the things she doesn't want in her own personality, but it's hard to avoid the immediacy in the delivery of bitter lines like, "How many times can you get fucked/In how many different ways?" In a mediated culture that disapproves of pain (unless it's being inflicted on someone else), Hersh insists on including the blood and guts of real life. Addiction, heartache, regret, frustration, joy -- these songs tap darker universals, not the buffed cross-marketing gleam of Britney Spears and Aerosmith cavorting at the Super Bowl.

As a producer, Hersh outshines many of the bigger names in the business. A clear, well-arranged sound gives the mainly acoustic instruments an impressive heft and volume. Brilliant details fill in open spaces, like the multi-tracked backing vocal to "Your Dirty Answer", which echoes the angelic pitch of the background singers on Hendrix's "Hey Joe". When Hersh performs, her eyes stare through the back wall and her head weaves like a snake about to strike. You can feel that intensity in her playing as well; the album sounds amazingly organic despite its multi-tracked nature. This vibrant energy is also extended to Hersh's occasional cover tunes; Cat Stevens' "Trouble" sounds so natural coming out of her mouth that you'll wonder why she didn't record it sooner. She may not cheer you up, but Hersh will hold your hand while you're looking at the rain.