There are at least two silly reasons why I love Dar Williams. First, as a Townes Van Zandt fanatic, I'm thrilled that she dedicated "If I Told You" to him. Granted, I can't really see the connection between Townes and the song, but the gesture is enough. Second, I was thrilled by her cover of Ray Davies' "Better Things". Williams called that one of her favorite songs growing up, which means -- though perhaps I'm being presumptuous here -- she and I could have been best friends. If other factors, like being cute and funny, can also be considered silly reasons for loving an artist, then I probably have four or five dumb arguments that won't persuade newcomers to buy her music.

Here are some reasons that should persuade you. Dar Williams is one of those rare artists who can throw her entire personality into her music. Like the songs of Elizabeth Elmore, Joe Ziemba and Bobby Wratten, Williams' melodies follow her pulse. This means they sound completely natural, shaped as much by her life as by her talent. It also means that her words ("And February was so long that it lasted into March/And found us walking along a path alone together") are just another vehicle for the song, rather than the only thing driving it. Unlike a number of brilliant singer-songwriters whose songs require true effort to appreciate, you can enjoy Dar's songs without having to pay close attention to them. That's a great benefit, because it means you'll play the record more often.

Williams' songs suit every mood. This includes "The Babysitter's Here"; Out There Live! delivers a definitive version thanks to Dar's charming intro. As perhaps her most popular song, its staying power endlessly amazes me, as such cutesiness usually grows old after a couple of spins. I have heard the song a hundred times, though, enjoying it as much for Dar's delivery (comparable to Christine Lavin) as for its sweet, funny story.

Williams' guitar work is another reason to lover her. Well, actually, that's a mild joke; Dar has never been the most accomplished guitarist, and benefited early on from listeners who followed her vocals rather than her semi-redundant strumming. However, with Out There Live!, she and her band provide a shining showcase for all the beauty that swirls in these compositions. Like the music behind Jimmie Dale Gilmore's painfully underrated Braver Newer World, these songs can transport you to the side of a river and make you look up at a hand-drawn sky. For me, it's Jeff Kazee, keyboardist for Southside Johnny, who makes the most substantial contribution to the music; besides using his instrument to turn the lyrics inside out, he takes the music furthest away from Dar's folkie beginnings.

That fact -- that Dar is no longer a folk singer -- is another reason to love her. She is an artist who knows herself and her gifts. While Williams' primary fanbase remains her initial, folk-oriented members, her music has never been communal enough to fit comfortably in that medium. Serving more as slices of her life than as sing-alongs, they are the type of lyrics that benefit from a fuller, more fleshed-out band; when she plays without one, as I have often seen her do, some of her intended ambiguity is lost. While I think "Spring Street" could benefit from rocking even harder, with the type of guitar fadeout Chris Stamey made timeless, all of her songs are given spirited treatment here.

A final reason to love Dar Williams: she is a great entertainer -- a talent more than ably displayed on this album. She was wonderful when she was young, uncomfortable, and ever so chatty on stage, and she remains wonderful now, when the music rightfully takes center stage, and her stories, though less frequent, grow more refined and quotable.