While her magnificent new album, Burn Your Fire for No Witness (Jagjaguwar), may conjure the kind of specters that should be haunting the Ryman Auditorium, to call Angel Olsen an “old soul” would be too easy. The 11 dimly lit songs that comprise the record may sound like the perfect accompaniment to go walkin’ after midnight, but Ms. Olsen is self-aware enough so as to use such influences as mere jumping-off points for what is highly original work, albeit steeped in the grand tradition of her Americana forefathers. As such, when she opens with “I feel so lonesome I could cry,” on “Hi-Five,” it is with a knowing wink to ol’ Hank (and Orbison in her delivery) before she spins her own tale, not so much of woe, but of found contentment.

The rest of the album follows suit, with Olsen revealing the strength of both her songwriting and her delivery. Compared to her debut, 2012’s Half Way Home, on which Olsen took a more folksome approach while seeming to revel in her ability for vocal acrobatics, Burn is rawer, whether it’s the bone-dry guitar-and-voice reverie of the Cohen-esque “White Fire” or the rollicking “Forgiven/Forgotten.” Throughout, it’s Olsen who is the centrifugal force, as revealed by both the restraint and fury she displays. This dichotomy has her coming off like the spitfire offspring of a family tree that includes both Neko Case and PJ Harvey. This is an album that leaves a lasting sear on your psyche and the wanted kind of pang in your heart.