On the album's opening cut, the title-track finds Love at the deep depths of hell trying to climb her way out. In need of guidance, she opens up, "Oh, God, just get me out of here". She comes clean against a steadfast and sultry wall of noise that builds alongside her devilish vocals that is a counterpoint to 1994's "Miss World", signifying her evolution. "Skinny Little B*tch" brings to mind the languor of vintage Hole. "Honey" chips away at the peripheral revealing glimpses of a loved one who is missed by will most likely never return. "Pacific Coast Highway" speaks transcendently of a boy who comprehended her world better than anyone. It's often on the road where we exonerate our guilt; experience true escape and can truly scrutinize the curveballs that life has thrown at us as Love does. It may be a page from her past and possibly the here and now as the narrator is seeking redemption with those who are still in our presence. "Someone Else's Bed" finds Love taking stock of her life and decisions made to determine how she wound up where she is today ("Sunday morning when the rain begins to fall/I believe I've seen the end of it all"). "How Dirty Girls Get Clean" may hearken back to the Hole's past more than any of the other eleven songs with a spiritual insecurity ("I'm a lost soul") underscored by distorted detonation of guitars and drums. The dichotomy of existence between the illumination and despondency sets the tone for a guttural and brutal collection of songs where guilelessness is leaking at the seams.

The tone of Nobody's Daughter is geared more to the mainstream than the unorthodox gloom of Live Through This, which virtually every reviewer to date has compared Nobody's Daughter to, but before you do, ask yourself this one question; Are you the same person you were in 1994? I've found many of the reviews to date overlook the intense individual nature of Nobody's Daughter. I believe this stems from their inability to separate Courtney Love from a calendar that doesn't say it's 1994 on it. Live Through This came at a time when alternative ruled the airwaves and there was a scent of eternal optimism in the air (all this despite the rather dark nature of the era's best records). However, sixteen years on, that wide-eyed glimpse of a scenic future has turned into an eternal nightmare that won't seem to end. Along with pensions and their dreams, they no longer can find the mindset to be conscious of the directness that pours out on this record. Nobody's Daughter finds an artist and (more importantly) a human who finds themselves in desperate straits. The devotional layers of faith emerge through the reflective lyrics and despite there being an underlined spiritual uncertainty (much like Christ's in the garden of Gethsemane) there is a renewed sense of faith and aspiration instilled in the essence of the songs. Love is a top-tier artist because she pierces her soul and allows us to peak at her pain. How many of us can quote song after song, but can't utter the words "I love you" to a single human? How many of us conceal our true selves and never try to find a way out? For better or worse, Love has always laid it out for the world to dismember. It's neither idiotic nor ludicrous, it's profoundly courageous. Listen closely, and you will find out there is more to Courtney Love than meets the eye. Ultimately her insight into the philosophy of life will do more than flabbergast you, but transform you. Instead of merely expressing poetic pain, she attempts to make sense of it all and swerve her life back on course. This is a record of a survivor weaving through the wreckage of her past, trying to better herself and in the process she grabs hold of her existential fears.

The album's preeminent track, "Letter To God" may be her most masterful recording to date. Despite being written by Linda Perry, Love wills the song into existence and like Christina Aguilera did with "Beautiful", she conjures up absolute believability behind her seizing and searing vocals which are delivered like a distressing prayer. This unbridled honesty and awakening makes Love more accessible, credible and ultimately it crystallizes her music in ways I don't think anyone could have imagined. The lyrics take you on a whirlwind journey painting pictures of devastation, redemption along with a pining for emancipation. Like Christ's pleading wish to God above to not be crucified, you can hear Love's bewilderment with the state of her world, yet on "Never Go Hungry", a shimmering acoustic number is a sprawling declaration. As she snarls the chorus, "I will never go hungry, go hungry again", the tough-talking delivery reaffirms her liberation and if Love can walk through fire and come out on the other end, it opens up unlimited possibilities for anyone fortunate enough to hear her music. Love severed a piece of her soul so that not only can she make sense of it, but in the hopes someone else will crawl out of the depths of their own personal hell and make it to the other side. The greatest records are ones where the listener can dive into, get swallowed whole and come out the other end with a better understanding of themselves; Nobody's Daughter is one of those records.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter