Pop art, page 2 "Omnipop" is a more daring work, a savvy hopscotch through various styles that rarely loses its sense of accessibility. True to its title, it's a cornucopia of found sounds, dense with wah-wahs, strums, honks, thuds and rhumbas. "Zero Zero Zero!", the album's first single, revels in its layers of percussion, while the instrumental "(Skeleton)" features an array of synthesizer and guitar noises. Adding to the weirdness, the minute-long "Compulsive Gambler" is tinged by punk, while "Animals on Wheels" offers an oblique waltz. More often, though, the production is less playful and more utilitarian. The album's moodier ballads sound appealingly sinister and claustrophobic, with Phillips' voice usually creeping out from behind a scrim of guitar feedback. Lyrically, "Omnipop" is mostly an album about use and abuse by culture, technology, or other human beings. "Entertainmen," which opens the album, gets the point across immediately; from an orchestra of distorted guitars, twisted and cutting phrases rise to the top: "He asked her to spread her magazines all across the floor/ He finally found his bathing beauty/ She was a girl worth waiting for." More introspective songs like "Your Hands" and "Where Are You Taking Me" counter Phillips' panicked vocals against restrained, neo-blues backdrops. The appeal is voyeuristic, Phillips guiltily allowing us to listen to stories of broken relationships while a distant string section serenades. Or, as she puts it in "Plastic is Forever," "pain is pleasure when it's televised." Which isn't to say that "Omnipop" is depressing, just mature and informed. The irresistably-titled "Faster Pussycat to the Library!" (about guiding a lover through bookshelves for further research) has a brazenly upbeat lilt to it, and "Slapstick Heart"'s litany of romantic failures ends the album on a note of brave contemplation. Phillips' success isn't so much that she's crafted such an honest album, but that she's presented the honesty in a fashion both intriguing and listenable. Because while "pop" doesn't have to be a dirty word, it doesn't have to mean playing it safe either. Mark Athitakis is a San Francisco-based contributor to Salon.