While Lonely and Blue, Orbison's somewhat better-known 1961 debut for Monument, may not quite enter the fluffy alternate reality occupied by In Dreams, there is no reason to feel as if the album is any less of an endeavor. At 24 years old, Orbison channels a melancholy intensity which he had probably outgrown in his personal life at least six years before.

To Orbison's detractors, yes, I will admit that the world of Lonely And Blue can be quite claustrophobic. Despite the fact that "Blue Angel" is also a semi-famous and somewhat revered song, it makes me feel glutted with a sticky pink feeling that does not sit well. But listen to "I'll Say It's My Fault." Over that "drink a strawberry milkshake and watch the rain pour down" rhythm, the song aches and groans with the strain of dead poems, broken promises, and sweet letters which now sound as if they were full of lies. And what about "Today's Teardrops," which bips and bops around with a country edge, a catchy-as-hell tune released from the vault of the Peanuts' Schroeder, and a sax solo that bleeds into a sneaky slick guitar spot and makes this reviewer wants to have a sock hop in her apartment?

Currently, there is a trend in modern music to revel in sadness, draw black and red circles around the eyes, and sing in an emotionally choked voice that would make Bright Eyes shed a black tear. But this trend lacks authenticity, the authenticity which Orbison imbues with every track. He does not throw a stock of puppets and costumes at the listener to hide a lack of sincerity; he throws in entire bathtubs of feelings and experiences, and heats them up with the power and fury of his angelic voice. That's why now, in this age of career renaissances and rediscoveries for many of his contemporaries, is the time when he deserves to be noticed again.