This is a fine sampler of a sorely under- appreciated female singer/ songwriter who's been writing circles around her better- known and better- selling contemporaries Suzanne Vega and Lucinda Williams for years now. She certainly benefits from the production expertise and musical genius of her multi- talented hubby, T-Bone Burnett. Burnett also likes to bring his friends into the studio just for kicks, too. Since Burnett enjoys hanging out with the likes of Van Dyke Parks, Marc Ribot, Peter Buck, Benmont Tench, Jim Keltner, Tchad Blake, and Elvis Costello, things can't help but get interesting. Still, though, his wife's recording sessions become much more than just tossed- off, liquored- up backyard jams amongst some old musician buddies.

Having been a devout Christian early on in life, and even a minor star on the Christian rock and roll circuit. Phillips suddenly grew up, saw the whole Christian scene as fascist and corrupt, and rebelled against it with 1987's The Turning. Lately, the literate Phillips deals intelligently with issues of faith, true love, integrity, commercialism, morality, truth-- all the essentials. And her voice isn't half bad either. (Think Loretta Lynn with a slightly masculine Rickie Lee Jones edge.) There really isn't much to dislike on this particular compilation, having culled its material from 1994's excellent Grammy- nominated Martinis and Bikinis, 1991's Cruel Inventions, and 1988's hidiously- titled The Indescribable Wow. This compilation probably won't make Phillips a big, bright, shining star, but the songs chosen here do justice to her sadly- neglected back catalog, and make a great introduction to her music in general.

"I need love, not some sentimental prison/ I need God, not the political church," Phillips declares on Martinis and Bikinis' "I Need Love," a fairly typical Phillips' song relying on shining pop harmonies, soulful vocals, and lyrics teeming with suggestion and implication. There's the odd industrial clank of "Black Sky." And "Signposts," with its predominant reggae- rock feel, is defined by punchy percussive rhythm guitar. But the remarkable flamenco- influenced "Flame" is a standout track among standout tracks-- an impossibly delicate song about the incipient guilt of a newly born sinner: "Flame, why do I dance so close to you?/ Stained with the longing of a fool."

There's the hint of rockabilly and tinge of western swing on "You Lost My Mind," which also features, oddly enough, some sampled sitar. The classico-pop of "Cruel Inventions" is another example of the brilliant simplicity that Phillips and Burnett are capable of orchestrating together-- nailing the note- perfect repeating guitar hook, or integrating the odd but somehow fitting tape loop effect or appropriate atmospheric. Like close stylistic cousin Mitchell Froom, they perfect a nice marriage of a raw, vintage feel coupled with the sheen of a more modern technologically- advanced studio sound.

My personal favorite track is "Fighting Fire With Fire," another stripped- down guitar- based nugget from Martinis and Bikinis. "Money's the only thing he has," sings Phillips. Hey, wait. It all makes sense now. This song must be about her label's boss, Virgin dictator Richard Branson. "He wants to keep in contract/ He wants the rights to the soul of every man/ He wants to buy the things he doesn't understand/ I wanna go down below the surface where he lives/ Fighting with fire." In order to fight the Devil-- presumably Branson, in this case-- you've got to lower yourself to His debauched depths, right? Of course. It must be about the evil Damien Thorn- like Branson-- dark master of corporate hot- air ballooning, wanton womanizer, crooked peddler of overpriced CDs, morally bankrupt huckster of airfare, entertainment and multimedia hellfire and brimstone. Hallelujah, praise Jesus, Sam! Slay the beast! Of course, that's just my humble, narrow interpretation of it all, y'know.

"Strawberry Road," and "Lying" round out Zero Zero Zero in superb fashion, with Marc Ribot's guitar leaving its indelible mark on the latter. You'd think with all the different musicians contributing to each song-- each having his busy fingers in the same musical pie, if you will-- things would get overly jumbled and incoherent. But with Burnett's expert arranging, the songs are cut and shaped to a sharp point without ruining any sense of spontaneity or authenticity.

Besides, not much can take away from Phillips' songwriting ability, except maybe the fact that simply not enough people know who the hell she is. Sure, Lucinda Williams' recent critical favorite Car Wheels on a Gravel Road was an album certainly worthy of acclaim, but it really can't compare to what Sam Phillips has been doing consistently for almost a decade now. And the pleasure of listening to Zero Zero Zero in its entirety is all the proof one needs.

-Michael Sandlin