Unflinching in her art Songstress Kathleen Edwards' work is appealing, meticulously crafted and intensely personal - yet rarely heard in the mainstream. But she's OK with that. Kathleen Edwards is no fool. Early in her career, the Canadian singer-songwriter understood the potentially limiting career prospects of writing songs meticulously sculpted from genuine emotions, fashioning a body of work that transcended the vast majority of the mainstream's penchant for brainless hooks, vapid subject matter and a catchy melody. A sly self-awareness is evident on her 2003 debut Failer, in one of that record's most biting tracks, One More Song the Radio Won't Like. "Reel it in and shut your mouth/Reputations are in doubt/Write a hit so I can talk you up," opines Edwards, who sings from the perspective of "Johnny little rocket star" but could just as easily be foreshadowing her own, often bleak experiences in the music industry. Edwards, with seminal punk icon-turned-folk singer John Doe, will play Dallas' the Loft, in the Palladium Ballroom, tonight. "I think the John Doe show is going to be really fun," Edwards says from her Ontario, Canada, home. "We're doing a bunch of cover songs, and most songs we're going to be doing together even if they're his songs or my songs. "It's going to be like a Dolly [Parton] and Porter [Wagoner] night, except that he's Dolly." 'Broader scope' Despite reams of critical acclaim; an appealing blend of country, folk, pop and rock; and a passionate fan base that feeds off Edwards' ability to pen works of astonishing vulnerability, the 30-year-old songstress has yet to make much of an impression beyond the tastemakers. Her latest album, Asking for Flowers, which the Star-Telegram described in a five-star review in March as "compelling" and "emotionally charged," somewhat broadens Edwards' perspective. While the intensely personal focus is intact - I Make the Dough, You Get the Glory and Scared at Night, for instance - Edwards branches out to tackle more urgent topics, such as the ramifications of the war in Iraq (Oil Man's War), senseless social injustice (Oh Canada) or the disappearance and eventual death of a young woman near Edwards's hometown (Alicia Ross). Edwards says matter-of-factly that she "went for it" on Asking for Flowers, by which she means dialing down the boy-meets-girl, boy-rips-girl's-heart-out themes and playing up the slightly more politically charged material. Yet the troubadour, who bypassed college in favor of cutting her musical teeth in clubs and eventually pulling together Building 55, a now-sought-after 1999 EP, doesn't flinch in the face of controversy. Indeed, most reviews of Flowers are quick to highlight the record's "broader scope," according to The Boston Globe. "There are songs on my record that I was told I shouldn't put out," Edwards says. "I'm like, 'Why, because I'm making statements that people think are political? Let people decide for themselves what that song is about.' I'll defend my work to the ends of the earth. . . . What's the problem with writing songs you believe in?" Edwards admits that defiance, coupled with an exacting sense of craftsmanship, can make for slow-going creativity. "That's what keeps me from being more prolific," she says. "I set myself up to not be very productive because I'm always like, 'OK, I have a song idea, but it's got to be right and it's got to reveal itself, and at the same time, I know I have to work on it.' It's this crazy balance between all those things. I know what I want to convey, but sometimes it takes me a lot of time and thought to get the magic of a melody and a phrase and then the words and all that stuff." Her own path For all the attention paid to getting her music just right, Edwards is a ready and willing collaborator, having appeared on Doe's solo album A Year in the Wilderness, as well as Fort Worth singer-songwriter Collin Herring's new disc Past Life Crashing. Indeed, her Texas ties are considerable: An impromptu, intimate January performance at Dallas' Bend Studio sprang out of friendships Edwards and her husband, Colin Cripps, have formed in Austin (where she and Herring crossed paths). Yet she forges ahead on her own path, remaining on the small label Zoe Records and retaining a degree of artistic freedom that is increasingly common in the Internet age just as it becomes increasingly rare in the world of high-dollar major-label deals. "I'm really lucky - I am one of those people who has made basically the records I want to make, and [the record company] puts them out," Edwards says. "Sometimes they put them out and don't promote them as much as I think they would or should or could, but that's the price I pay for being an artist who makes records I want to make. I actually think that's not so bad." She laughs, a bit bitterly perhaps, since all the artistic freedom in the world means very little if people aren't hearing what you have to say. Edwards describes a recent career-related conversation with a friend centering on "What am I doing wrong?" only to draw the conclusion that her songs are just too "simple." "There's no justice in the music business," she says. ". . . You have to be happy with the material you put out. When someone reacts to a song, it's the biggest compliment in the world. It really is." Preston James Star-Telegram				Album reviews Feature articles Interviews Show reviews