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Though iTunes categorizes the Scottish musician KT Tunstall’s latest album, Tiger Suit, within the “pop” genre, this may come as a surprise to fans who might describe her as mix of acoustic folk with a touch of rock-and-roll. Although she sometimes resembles Sheryl Crow or Tracy Bonham, Tunstall blazes her own path, garnering positive reception in the process.

Her fourth studio release marks a significant departure from Tunstall’s previous work, largely indicated by her use of electronic synthesizers that give this album a distinctly club sound. The album’s title comes from Tunstall’s childhood dream where she confronted a tiger in a garden and to capture this feeling, Tiger Suit uses ‘savage’ cries, wild imagery and body parts to inspire the carnal and corporeal.

Tunstall’s opening track “Uummannaq Song” is among the strongest. The crackle of her electric beats pump bass-amplified jolts of electricity. The reserved Tunstall we have come to love is not here, but rather a more outgoing ‘chick’ who knows how to enjoy the nightlife has taken her place. Complimenting the album’s opening is “Glamour Puss,” which captures the sex appeal, glam and high-heeled pumps of her female protagonist, inspiring the pussycat in all of us.

Tunstall also presents a much darker side in Tiger Suit, bearing her personal fears and insecurities through the use of storytelling and metaphor. In contrast to the glitz of her characters, Tunstall admits with melancholic honesty (in the self-referential “(Still A) Weirdo”) that she is “never quite elegant.”

But perhaps the most difficult track to listen to, “Difficulty,” opens with the harsh static sounds of the electric guitar. Tunstall laments the changing nature of time and place and the loss of both future and past. Prevented from connecting to the people she has lost, Tunstall sews up her dreams “nice and tightly” and we are left in her empty “jungle.”

Though the album presents a unique facet to Tunstall’s personality some tweaking in musicality is needed.

Tunstall repetitively presents a familiar packaging of songs in which she opens with a soft lead, rises to a crescendo among various refrains and concludes with a dance floor blitz. In her slower songs, listeners may become weary of Tunstall’s dour tone, coming across as self-pity. And Tunstall’s storytelling often describes a strong female character’s repulsion and subsequent rebellion against an unnamed male protagonist (so lighthearted that it makes their inevitable breakup seem like a fun experience, as in “Come On, Get In”). By the fourth or fifth song, this storyline becomes rather tedious.

In spite of these objections, Tunstall repeatedly demonstrates her mastery at moving a song’s story (and her audience) forward. Her hooks crash over us in spine-tingling waves, only surpassed by her raspy vocals. She empowers us to “push that knot away” and leaves us hungering for her next album in all our primeval bestiality.

4 out 5 stars