Adia Victoria

From Rihanna’s flirtation with country music on “FourFiveSeconds” and “Higher” to the Drake-like, hip-hop infused rhymes emerging from bro-country star Sam Hunt, it’s clear that soul-steeped country infusions are having a moment in a way we have not seen since Ray Charles released Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music in 1962. Enter Adia Victoria. With a babydoll punk caterwaul and country-blues guitar licks, Victoria draws on the South’s twin musical traditions to deliver a raw, densely lyrical album that reckons with the South Carolina native’s own conflicted feelings about her birthplace. “I don’t know nothing about Southern belles/But I can tell you something about Southern hell,” she laments on “Stuck in the South.” Like most first albums, there are some derivative detours — “Mortimer’s Blues” is pure Moon Pix-era Cat Power. (That’s no insult.) She’s clearly channeling PJ Harvey on the epic “Sea of Sand,” albeit with blood-curdling lyrics that wonder about how we survive everything from personal breakdowns to racial violence. Is this goth country, as some hashtag-crazed reviewers have called it? Nah. Like Dusty Springfield or Shemekia Copeland, Victoria’s a genre-hopping chanteuse who, for now at least, has jump-started her artistic ambition by crossing the wires between country and soul, funk and punk.