Never Melissa Etheridge

Melissa Etheridge wasn't out of the closet when she released Yes I Am in 1993, yet it's hard not to notice the defiant acclamation in the album's title. This barely concealed sense of sexual identity seeps out from the lyrics, and it informs the music as well, which is perhaps the most confident she has ever been. It's also the most professional she's ever been (perhaps not a coincidence), as she belts out these unapologetically anthemic numbers with a sense of finesse that's suited to lifestyle newspaper pages, not rock & roll, thereby setting herself up for her bout with celebrity during the second half of the '90s. Yes I Am wouldn't have been as convincing if it wasn't so slick, though; her Springsteen-isms and Janis tributes are tempered by songs that work as album rock favorites, even if they aren't as epic or passionate as their inspirations. She may not have songs as great as she did the first time out – "Somebody Bring Me Some Water" remains her finest moment – but she has a sense of purpose and identity that suits her well.

Talk about the human condition. When Melissa Etheridge released Lucky in early 2004, it was in celebration of a new romance and her status as a veteran singer/songwriter. Sadly, just a few months later, she announced she had breast cancer. But then, almost exactly a year after Lucky's release, Etheridge was on-stage at the Grammys singing a powerful version of Janis Joplin's "Piece of My Heart." Her bold, and bald, performance proved that cancer wasn't Melissa Etheridge's goodbye. But it also gave hope to anyone experiencing the same ordeal. Etheridge celebrates her career again with 2005's Greatest Hits: The Road Less Traveled, which joins highlights and singles from her albums to unreleased material and a rousing studio version of "Piece of My Heart."

Four albums in 15 years is not exactly prolific when it comes to making records. But Annie Lennox has never been one to rush things, and her recorded output as a solo artist in life after the Eurythmics has been stellar. The last time she issued a recording in 2003 with Bare, a collection of deeply committed emotional songs that set a new standard for her artistically, though they were written in the turmoil following her second divorce. Perhaps the reason she hasn't had the time to record is her activism. She's involved herself in causes that range from her primary concern, raising awareness about AIDS/HIV (and she refers to this in the album's notes), to the environment and poverty. But Songs of Mass Destruction isn't a political album by any means, unless the personal is – and often it is. This is another album of love songs; dark love songs. These are breakup ballads, statuesque embers of pain and rage that have simmered down to the traces of that dull ache of emptiness that always exists in the aftermath of something profound.