With a terse 10-track glide of a record as accentuator, this showcases Blanton as versatile virtuoso that's bashful, bodacious, funny, calmly aching. With ease she emanates jazzy cool, classically trained folkie, punk quirk, low-key liberation. Between the sheets with nicely dressed mistakes/just the thought of them one minute, "We stole this nation fair and square / And a whole lot of people in chains / But it was all for the glory of God I swear / And the glory of capital gains" the next. Then there's feather-in-the-breeze balladry, a lip-hair letdown jaunt that could qualify for Grease 3 material, an album title that doubles as a legit life motto, getting back in bed until the president's dead. Backing band: pro ragtag that's restrained yet rich and crucial enough to earn their own hails. They harmonize, too.