After a couple of disappointments by favorite artists, here’s an album by another favorite that met my high expectations.

As it happens, just about all of my favorite albums this year have been by women, with Aimee Mann’s Mental Illness vying for the top spot. Of course, when she promised her “saddest, slowest, most acoustic” album yet, I was destined to love it.

Mental Illness is indeed sad, slow and acoustic, but above all it’s beautiful, filled with Mann’s indelible melodies and aching soprano vocals. Few singer-songwriters connect with me on such a fundamental level. I feel her songs more than hear them.

This is Mann’s ninth solo album (including her 2006 Christmas record) and every one is brilliant. She has enjoyed critical adoration and modest commercial success, but I don’t think she’ll ever receive the level of recognition she deserves.