Want a real diva? Try Chaka Khan. Mary J. Blige. Erykah Badu. Teena Marie. Hell, and let's not forget the eminent Godmother of Divas, Diana Ross - where would we be without Miss Mahogany herself? Ladies who not only understand the concept of nuance, but they embody it in their delivery. Sure, they can belt it out like nobody's business, but they don't limit themselves to mere flashiness like the Mariahs of the world. Catharsis through vocal pyrotechnics can be a wonderful thing, but it's because of the build-up and release that it works so well. Without the contrast, you're left with mere bombast. Next.

But then, there's a whole other diva camp out there. Let's just say they're a bit more…quirky. Certainly they know how to own the mic like Mary or Chaka or Erykah, but they approach it with a more personal, iconoclastic vision in mind. I'm talking about folks like Bjork, Allison Goldfrapp, Portishead's Beth Gibbons, the Gossip's Beth Ditto, and - in a surely reluctant godmother mode, and possibly a head-scratcher of a suggestion to some, but worth considering nonetheless - Siouxsie Sioux.

Let's add Roisin Murphy to that list, shall we? Her former band, Moloko, was somewhat unfairly lumped in with the so-called trip-hop "movement" - those were a fun few weeks, weren't they? - due to their having several songs with emotive vocals over slowed-down hip-hop rhythms, but the electro-dance rompers were never the paint-into-a-stylistic-corner kind. For one, Moloko offered heaping helpings of humor along with their funky brazenness, thanks to Murphy's willingness to play both the sasspot and the jester, often at the same time. An impressively versatile vocalist, she can easily switch from Catwoman to robot within a few notes, an asset used to fantastic effect on Moloko's four albums, beginning with their 1995 killer-bunny-and-dominatrix-studded cartoon-funk debut, Do You Like My Tight Sweater? (Roadrunner). That rubber-grooved opening statement - bursting with ideas as it was - will perhaps be forever best remembered here, in the mouthwateringly vampy single "Fun for Me":

Moloko called it quits in 2002, ending on a splendid high note with Statues (Echo), a wildly eclectic album complete with sweeping string arrangements and cinematic disco epics. In spite of all the drama, Murphy remained the jokester, indulging in a bit of Ab Fab-style roleplaying on the cover.

Murphy headed out into new terrain upon going solo, first teaming up with electro-visionary Matthew Herbert, an artist-producer well-known for his nontraditional methods and responsible for some of the most creatively fertile electronic albums of the past decade or so (Herbert, Dani Siciliano). How nontraditional, you ask? Sampling the sounds of pens, notebooks, doorbells - anything, really, as the basis for club-ready rhythms, for example. Insisting upon making a rapturously full-sounding "electronic" album while using primarily "organic" methods. The results, found on 2005's Ruby Blue (Echo), make for convincing testimony that one can indeed create catchy-as-hell dance-pop while still keeping things experimental. Consider "Sow into You," a shimmying horn-happy party number propelled by rhythms fashioned from whatever was lying around the studio that day. Killer headgear, Roisin:

And now, two years later, we have Overpowered, a thumping triumph of off-kilter electro disco-funk fronted by Roisin sporting the Stitch-and-Bitch equivalent of Bjork's walking-talking Christmas tree ornament motif on the cover of Volta (Elektra). Can you say "yarn frenzy"?

Sadly, Herbert isn't in the picture on the sophomore release. Instead, Murphy worked with a wide-ranging roster of other collaborators and producers, including Groove Armada , Seiji, and Ill Factor. Such "many-cooks-in-the-kitchen" affairs tend to suffer under the strain of too many helping hands, but not so with Overpowered. Despite the abundance of names in the liner notes, the record is not only gushing with ideas but also cohesive enough to feel like the result of a single collaboration, much like Ruby Blue. Gone are the intricately arranged houseware-rhythms of the debut, and in their place are booty-clapping beats, electro-glam stompings, and cowbell throttlings destined to elevate the heart-rates of listeners everywhere. If the more straightforward recording techniques used here are to be considered some sort of courtship of dance-pop fans, this tactic wasn't taken at the expense of Murphy's intriguing persona, nor did it compromise her creative vision. Rather, she has crafted another wonderfully arty record disguised as "mere" foot-tap-able diva-pop. Quite the coup, really.

Personal fave "Movie Star" has yet to be released as a single, but I imagine it's not far off. Here, over a whirring, chugging Eurythmics-versus-T.Rex bed of synth-swagger and feather-boa'ed slinkiness, Murphy updates Goldfrapp by injecting a more soulful delivery into the future-glam proceedings. (Not that Allison is some kind of sexless droid, of course - but Roisin definitely brings her own brand of sultry huskiness to the Goldfrapp sound.) The invigorating house number "You Know Me Better" benefits from a brassy vocal and a rather libido-provoking use of breathless panting in its rhythm. Imagine Teena Marie hooking up with any of the current wave of French disco-re-appropriating artists, and you're off to a good start in comprehending the song's pure, undiluted juiciness.

Murphy gets downright feisty on "Cry Baby," a delirious slice of dirty disco pushed along - shoved, maybe even - by a cowbell-clattering rhythm-deluge and grinding keyboard lines. "Oh me / oh my / don't cry baby / please don't cry," she taunts over a thumping four-to-the-floor beat while volleying around her are bubbles of that quintessentially disco "bong bong bong" synth sound best used on Amii Stewart's mirrorball anthem "Knock on Wood." Exhilarating.

I'll leave you with the video for Overpowered's title track, one of the finest pieces of funk to ever make prominent use of a harp. "Oxytocins flowing to my brain," Murphy floats over mind-alteringly loopy electro-curlicues. Hmm, perhaps Daft Punk is playing at her house? Check it out and see what I mean, and scope out Roisin's latest fashion statement: