To get immediately to the point, if Me'Shell Ndegéocello's Comfort Woman isn't regarded as one of the finest contemporary soul albums of 2003, then those who review music for a living had better get eardrum transplants and a transfusion of blood to get rid of the sawdust, or quit to sell used cars, work in a fast-food establishment, or pump gas. The marketplace is tricky, but if this disc doesn't sell, then Madonna needs to fire her marketing department at Maverick. Comfort Woman is a deeply sensual album, sexy as hell and drenched with lush, richly textured bass grooves that bubble under warmly and luxuriantly in a series of songs that may not be all that divergent in tempo, but don't have to be either. This is late-night music, where the sound of a bass doesn't so much pop as it rumbles in the lower spine, looking for release. Make no mistake on Comfort Woman, space is the place and that place is reached via two vehicles, a perfect commingling of the spirits of dub reggae and mid-'70s soul and groove jazz. Think, perhaps, of David Sancious and Teena Marie as bandmates with Sly & Robbie in the rhythm section, Jimi Hendrix's "Rainy Day, Dream Away" as a music model, and Sade as vocalist -- you get the idea. The opening track, "Love Song," begins with a spacy bassline, rumbling in the lower register soft enough to ease its way into a song yet tough enough that it won't let the listener go. With a B-3 shimmering in the background, Ndegéocello begins to sing, so s-l-o-o-o-o-o-w-