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**Wanda Jackson - Wanda Jackson**
★★★★☆

In the annals of rock'n'roll history, few figures command as much respect while remaining criminally undersung as Wanda Jackson. By 1958, when Capitol Records released her self-titled debut album, the Oklahoma firecracker had already been tearing up honky-tonks and recording studios for the better part of a decade, leaving a trail of scorched earth and broken hearts in her wake. This collection stands as a thrilling snapshot of an artist caught between worlds – part country sweetheart, part rock'n'roll hellcat, and entirely her own woman in an industry that barely knew what to do with such unbridled feminine power.

The album's genesis traces back to Jackson's formative years performing alongside Hank Thompson's Brazos Valley Boys, where she cut her teeth on western swing and honky-tonk standards. But it was her romantic and professional relationship with Elvis Presley in the mid-fifties that truly lit the fuse. The King himself encouraged Jackson to embrace the wilder side of her musical personality, advice that would prove prophetic when she began recording the rockabilly numbers that would cement her reputation as the genre's undisputed queen.

What strikes you immediately about this debut is its schizophrenic brilliance. Jackson and her producers seemed unable – or unwilling – to choose between her country roots and rock'n'roll ambitions, resulting in an album that careens wildly between tender ballads and full-throttle rockers. It's this very unpredictability that makes the record so compelling six decades later. One moment you're swept away by the aching vulnerability of "I Gotta Know," the next you're ducking for cover as Jackson unleashes holy hell on "Hot Dog! That Made Him Mad."

The album's crown jewel remains "Let's Have a Party," a raucous reinvention of Elvis's "Baby Let's Play House" that showcases everything that made Jackson special. Her voice – equal parts honey and barbed wire – rides atop a galloping rhythm section while her band threatens to fly apart at the seams. It's three minutes of pure, undiluted joy that sounds like Saturday night distilled into vinyl. Similarly explosive is "Fujiyama Mama," where Jackson adopts the persona of a walking natural disaster, promising to blow her lover's mind "like they never did before." The sexual confidence is staggering, particularly for 1958, and Jackson delivers every innuendo-laden line with the swagger of someone who knows exactly what she's doing.

But Jackson's artistry extends far beyond her ability to raise hell. The country numbers reveal a vocalist of remarkable sensitivity and technical skill. "I'd Rather Have You" strips away the bombast to showcase a voice capable of genuine heartbreak, while her reading of "Cool Love" demonstrates her mastery of the western swing idiom that first brought her to prominence. These moments of restraint make the rock'n'roll explosions hit even harder.

The album's production, overseen by Ken Nelson, captures the raw energy of Jackson's live performances while maintaining enough polish to satisfy radio programmers. The arrangements are lean and muscular, built around Jackson's voice and the interplay between guitar, bass, and drums. There's an immediacy to these recordings that later, more heavily produced efforts would sometimes lack.

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of this debut is how it established a template that Jackson would follow throughout her career – the refusal to be pigeonholed into any single genre or role. She was simultaneously the good girl next door and the bad girl your mother warned you about, capable of breaking your heart or setting your pants on fire, sometimes within the same song.

Today, Wanda Jackson's influence reverberates through generations of female performers who refuse to be tamed or categorized. From Joan Jett to Gretchen Wilson, from The Cramps to Jack White, artists continue to draw inspiration from Jackson's fearless genre-blending and unapologetic sexuality. Her 2011 collaboration with White introduced her to a new generation of fans, while her induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame finally gave her the recognition she'd long deserved.

This self-titled debut remains the perfect introduction to Jackson's singular artistry – a wild, wonderful mess of contradictions that somehow coheres into something approaching perfection. It's an album that demands to be played loud, preferably while driving too fast down a dark highway with someone you shouldn't be with. In other words, it's rock'n'roll at its most essential.