A recent Time Out New York review of Stevie Nicks’s new LP "Trouble in Shangri-La" cruelly referred to the venerable songstress as the Miss Havisham of rock and roll. I’m no devotee, but I thought this was a cheap shot, imagining some snide hipster delighted to make a pompous literary reference at the expense of our faded superstar. Sure, she still dresses in that creepy anachronistic style she’s been working for about twenty years now, but that’s no reason to compare her to an old, dusty crone.

In truth, maybe the Havisham metaphor goes beyond the lace. Her long awaited follow-up to 1993’s "Street Angel," "Trouble" isn’t really mold breaking. Musically, it seems an updated version of the Stevie we knew and loved with a little band named Fleetwood Mac a few years back. She’s still concocting the same witchy rock and roll brew and her husky velveteen sound remains unmistakable.

But is it fair to chide an artist for not straying far from a proven formula, especially given the strength of style? Should every artist practice reinvention like Cher or Madonna? Considering the recent success of U2’s return to rock, "All That You Can’t Leave Behind," there’s no shame in returning to (or never leaving) your musical roots. That said, I think devoted Stevie Nicks fans will be satisfied with the new album, and it may very well become their summer soundtrack. Amazon visitors give it five stars and there are hundreds of fans proclaiming it to be "inspired," "imaginative," and "worth the wait."

And why shouldn’t they like it? Nicks croons in her signature croak about love, relationships, the planets and the sea, sorcerers and surviving. There are standouts on the album, including the world-worn title track, "Trouble in Shangri-La." The old ghosts of despair still haunt her in the twangy "Sorcerer," and may be referencing the Fleetwood Mac legend in the rocking "Fall From Grace." But Nicks isn’t afraid to try out new waters: she abandons spooky for country in "Too Far From Texas' with a little help from Dixie Chick Natalie Maines. You may actually catch yourself swaying to that down-home heartbreak dance. (Maines is but one of the Lillith Fair of songstresses supporting Nicks: Sheryl Crow produced, played and sang on the album; Macy Gray and Sarah McLaughlan just loaned their voices.) A little disappointing are the tracks "Bombay Sapphires" and "I Miss You," which seem just a little too sappy and 80’s kitsch corny for my taste.

Regardless of what you think of the album, it’s difficult to separate the music from the legend. Maybe it’s the renewed interest that has generated recent articles or the VH-1 Behind the Music I watched with googly eyes a few weeks back, but I can’t help but have respect for Stevie. She’s a rock and roll survivor with a prolific career that has influenced and inspired contemporary female musicians from Courtney Love to Sheryl Crow. She’s survived her battles with lovers and destructive chemical addiction to come out on top. Recalling a 1996 conversation with Tom Petty in which she asked him to write the songs for the album, Petty’s refusal is captured in "That Made Me Stronger" with the lyrics "no, you write your songs yourself/ That made me stronger/ It made me hold on to me."

I hope you keep holding on, Stevie.