Kismet an edgy, hypnotic first effort for Hoop

To say she's the next Fiona Apple would be a stretch: The girl's got the same alluring bite to her vocals but not (yet) the bitter passion. She resembles Emiliana Torrini with her nymph-like highs and the purest of folk accompaniment. It's close - but still no cigar. Somewhere in the middle lies Jesca Hoop: singer and soon-to-be indie superstar extraordinaire.

Hoop's got more than a few things going for her. Growing up in a strict Mormon household with four siblings, the creative energy was bound to burst out. Never allowed to watch MTV or mainstream radio, family sing-a-longs and other musical performances in her homemade basement theater combined to craft the quirky spirit Hoop is today.

Her look is unique: pale Snow White skin set off by dark, tattered hair and peasant garb. Her sound? The spawn of Bjork and Paula Cole. Listeners won't know whether to do a tribal dance and chant or skip along to the beat. Each song has a different rhythm and a distinctive mood.

A self-described "totally wackadoo record," Hoop's breakout effort, Kismet is like an out-of-body experience. She manages to slip in and out of what you'd imagine a never-never land accent to be, though she hails from California, blurring the line between country and jazz - a line that's never even been defined, let alone blurred.

An album of collaborations, Kismet features Hoop's work with Tony Berg, who helped sign Beck and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and Matt Chamberlain (former member of Pearl Jam) and just about everyone in between.

Amidst the Britneys and Avrils of today's popular music scene, Hoop stands strong in Kismet's edgy, hypnotic ways. Starting the album off with the Dolly Parton-esque "Summertime," complete with lyrics about wheat, farmland and bandura add-ins, she quickly morphs into the witchy, callous "Silverscreen": "Crystal ball, padded walls, a bright blue TV glare. / A moth to light is as lost as I'm found far down cellar stair."

Hoop throws a curveball with "Money," in which she vocally resembles the Cardigans' Nina Persson in her prime. "Out the Back Door" has an awesome sultry dance beat - an album gem for sure - and "Love and Love Again," finishes things off with a throwback to early jazz, heavy on piano and mandolin.

Hoop must've paid attention in eighth grade English class. Her words are thickly laced with symbolism, alliteration, and all the other elements of poetry and literature you were repeatedly tested on but still can't seem to remember.

And while it's becoming trendy for musicians to write songs dissing the evil-doing music industry - Hoop being no exception - her "Money" lyrics are more clever than the norm: "People pay for what's familiar, no need to know yourself too well. You can trade in that saga you tell for the song you know will sell," and she sing-songs them so starkly, you'd think she's on cloud nine.

Each of Hoop's songs on Kismet has a personality all its own and makes for quite the smorgasbord of musical innovation. With rough comparisons to female vocalists of all sorts and styles, Ms. Hoop is well on her way to fame and fortune - and she doesn't even need a slew of backup dancers and reverb to get her there.