Sara Evans; Chalee Tennison

Sara Evans' third album should've been called The Vanishing of Sara. Its actual title, Born to Fly, is frustratingly ironic. Rather than announcing a woman poised to soar free from the pack, it instead documents the subsuming of a talented young singer to the denaturing demands of country radio. It's a familiar story by now: A country act debuts with an emotionally powerful and critically acclaimed album that sells next to nothing. The follow-up is less distinctive but still promising, and by meeting radio halfway, it scores a hit (for Evans, the chart-topping "No Place That Far"). But when the next album arrives, well ... Born to Fly could be the third release from Terri Clark, Faith Hill, or almost anyone.

Sonically, Born to Fly has occasionally stunning moments (the airy and percussive title track, for example), but the arrangements are mostly a numbing, indistinguishable blur. Worse, the Missouri-bred Evans has now apparently forsaken her previous studies in such demanding subjects as subtlety, dynamics, and thoughtful phrasing to enroll in the If-You-Ain't-Screaming-You-Ain't-Singing school of pop-country divas. Evans' song selections don't reward close attention any more than her performances do: Every lesson is learned easily and then trumpeted as the most facile wisdom. As a current Alan Jackson recording summarizes it, this is the domain of the "Three Minute, Positive, Not-Too-Country, Up-Tempo Love Song."

Chalee Tennison appears bound for similar territory, though not just yet. For one thing, her sophomore effort still dares the occasional left-field production touch -- the guitar blast that opens "Yes I Was" could've been yanked whole from the Bottle Rockets. Quite a bit of Tennison's country-(hard-)rock sounds like what happens when a Tammy Wynette fan also digs Pat Benatar. Additionally, a song here and there (such as the domestic-violence themed "We Don't Have to Pray") is still willing to describe lives that are more ambivalent than triumphant. In other words, Tennison still stands out, through both her point of view (she's a former prison guard and a single mother of three) and her husky twang. Not to worry, though. If This Woman's Heart produces even a decent-size hit, they'll try to make a Stepford diva of her yet.