Mary Chapin Carpenter

Why do I believe this Nashville liberal showers three times a day and doesn't think sex is the right place to get your face wet? Is it the Stones riff that marches by as neatly as the quaint mandolin-and-harpsichord figure? The voice that never doubts its own clarity? Creative writing like "The sepia tones of a lost afternoon/Cradle a curio storefront"? As dull as Al Gore and Ralph Nader put together. (Grade: B-)