2016's Real made it clear that Lydia Loveless was growing as a songwriter beyond the boundaries of the fiery alt-country of her early work and that her melodic sense and lyrical acuity had become every bit as strong as her fierce honesty and superb vocal chops. Four years later, Loveless has left behind her home town in Ohio, a long-term romantic relationship, and her association with Bloodshot Records to start fresh, and 2020's Daughter -- the first release on her own Honey, You're Gonna Be Late label -- is an impressive step forward for an artist who was already a talent to reckon with. While the twang in her vocals is as strong as ever, Daughter is Loveless' relative equivalent to Wilco's 1999 Summerteeth, the spot where she walks away from her country influences in favor of a broader musical palate. Though this isn't a deep dive into off-kilter pop like Wilco's album, Loveless delivers a muscular blend of contemporary pop, rootsy indie rock, and singer/songwriter sensibilities that matches the uncompromised tone of the lyrics. (There is a slight Wilco connection -- it was recorded at their Chicago studio, the Loft, and their longtime engineer Tom Schick co-produced with Loveless.) Real dealt in part with a relationship that was going downhill, while Daughter is not so much a breakup album as a set of songs that confronts the emotions and ideas that came in the wake of starting over. On Daughter, Loveless writes and sings with honesty and clarity about the happiness of having your own space colored by the bitterness of what it took to get there ("Dead Winter"), the frustrations of knowing you gave more than you got ("Love Is Not Enough"), the difficulty of letting go even when you know you need to ("Can't Think"), the ugly memories of abuse ("When You're Gone"), and the realization that your partner valued your biology more than your heart or soul (the title tune). Loveless has been notoriously bold in expressing her thoughts and feelings, but she's never laid herself as emotionally bare as she does here, offering us an unobstructed view of her soul and psyche as she comes to terms with pain and its consequences. If Loveless occasionally sounds bitter on Daughter, she never sounds petty; this music is the emotional equivalent of cleaning a wound so it can heal, and for all the poison, her lyrics speak of what's seen in the cold light of day, not last night's turmoil. Loveless' vocals are as striking as her songs, and the taut arrangements provide the ideal background for performances. Folks who were expecting Lydia Loveless to be the next savior of country music may be thrown for a loop by Daughter, but anyone who wants to hear one of America's best and boldest songwriters working at the top of her game owes it to themselves to give it a careful listen.