Which is more important, an artist's loyalty to a muse or a fan's loyalty to a musician? Surely, Suzanne Vega considered this quandary following her fluke hit single "Luka" in 1987. Would she forever be labeled a neo-folkie and left behind like some quaint, arty souvenir in a trendy coffee shop? In the realm of modern pop stardom, fickle fans are the name of the game and reinvention is the key to survival; the secret to longevity lies in maintaining a dedicated fan base while gradually expanding the scope of the music. Vega had her work cut out for her.

On "Days of Open Hand," the 1990 follow-up to "Solitude Standing," from which "Luka" was taken, Vega diversified her music a bit, adding to the mix elements of jazz and pop which further fleshed out her highly literate yet familiar takes on the melancholic musings of Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen. Yet that wasn't enough to convince mainstream listeners. Backed into a corner by the limitations of her folk-rock surroundings, Vega's hand was forced: It was put up or shut up time.

In 1993, her ambitions paid off. "99.9F" was a defining album for Vega, recontexualizing folk-rock through the clamor of producer (and now husband) Mitchell Froom's trademark monkeyshines and mad merry-go-round music. Sure, Vega's familiar sigh of a singing voice remained somewhat fragile, but it exuded personality. Besides, her adventurous songs confounded expectations in a way that none of her previous efforts could. "99.9F" was a strong comeback for an artist whose only problem was that her career wasn't really going anywhere; its songs built upon the inventive arrangements and pop sensibility only hinted at on "Days of Open Hand."

"Nine Objects of Desire" continues to contemporize her acoustic folk strum into the hustle and bustle of urban life. The album's title places the various subjects of Vega's songs, from food to hosiery, on common ground. Although the 12 album tracks ironically contradict the proffered numerical concept, the album's thematic and musical elements cohere for a satisfying collection of songs about desire, yearning, missing, loving and needing.

The soulful groove of "Headshots" and the propulsive, stuttering pitter patter of "Casual Match" (powered by the fluid rhythm section of drummer Pete Thomas and bassist Bruce Thomas of the Attractions, among other guests) execute the concept somewhat obliquely, but tracks like the light, gooey cocktail-jazz of "Caramel" and the spooky, obsessive "My Favorite Plum" (which manages to make malevolent the most harmless of fruits) exemplify more literal expressions of craving. Most of the tracks, from "Stockings" to "Thin Man," possess the dark, voyeuristic bent of Raymond Carver's off-kilter stories and Krzysztof Kieslowski's poetic "Decalogue." Only the lazy "Lolita" appears to have wandered off some B-sides collection to die on this record.

Offering more forays into jazzy experimentalism, cruise-ship rhythms and casual dance tracks, "Nine Objects of Desire" is also less edgy than its predecessor, no doubt due in part to Vega's exploration of previously uncharted (for her) territory: marriage and motherhood. "Birth-day," the autobiographical "Honeymoon Suite," and, especially, the beautiful "World Before Columbus" all result from this new focus on sensuality and matrimony. Could the blood Vega heard pumping through her veins on "99.9F" have been the call of her biological clock all along?