I remember hearing about Star Anna not long after I moved to Seattle some five years ago. We ran in similar circles, but had never actually hung out. We still haven’t, really, though we’ve played gigs together in the same clubs on the same nights. In fact, I watched her one night, maybe six months ago, at the Tractor Tavern, sitting in a chair, hair wild, her faithful dog by her feet. She might as well have had a cigarette in her mouth, as she sang, belting lyrics along with a hard-strummed acoustic. Hundreds of people in the audience. This is punk, I thought, but not only that: it was soul, folk, country, something hard but with enough tenderness to bring a tear to a few audience members’ eyes.

Star’s new album is a change from her recent releases. She has departed her band The Laughing Dogs and composed 10 tracks of emotional, screaming, crying music. One gets the sense she belongs in a trailer on the edge of a river, doing everything she can to stay in control of her thoughts, but in some beautifully artistic way, she’s never able to. Only when she’s composing a song might she find that sense of control that all good artists call freedom.

The name of the record is Go To Hell, fitting due to the possibly-perceived brusqueness of our hero, Star. But, really, it’s a reflection on her own life: for, one can tell, she’s been there, and, thankfully, come back. It is an entreat for the listener, don’t take it so easy. Star, on paper, has all the tools: she’s got a voice out of this world, she’s a looker, she’s a talented musician. But one cannot live on paper; no. One lives here, in this world, and if one is to live honestly, one must know depths.

Star Anna, as far as I can tell, knows these depths. And she offers music that leads you to these depths and leads you back to a place you can call home.

The new record features Ty Baillie, Jeff Fielder, Julian McDonough, Jacques Willis and Will Moore – some of the city’s best players (whether they live here ‘round the calendar or not). It builds, it dips, it is full and full of want. But what does Star want? Perhaps the most poignant question one can ask about the artist. Best I can tell, it’s to expose herself, through music, through her art, through her craft, through her voice and its vulnerability.

My favorite track on the album, due out Sept. 20th, is the first, titled “For Anyone”, where she sings over a rugged acoustic, “I’ll get you an altar, I’ll bend my head, crying out for anyone”. But, admittedly, a favorite track is hard to choose. The album is an album completely. There is nothing to skip. But there is everything – had Star not put this record together – to miss. She even covers one of my favorite crooners, Tom Waits, on “Come On Up To The House” where the refrain seems so genuine and open, I just want to find the place she calls home.