"I have no accent," says Wright, "but I 'm more country than you know."

Wright's Verve debut, Salt, is a ringing declaration of soul power and jazz intent infused with sweltering tempos, evocative interpretations and her remarkably resonant voice. Wright creates mature original songs and offers deliciously burnished covers of Flora Purim's "Open Your Eyes, You Can Fly," Mongo Santamaria's "Afro Blue," and a particularly revelatory take on Gordon Jenkin's "Goodbye." But far from a slick songstress, Wright's appeal is her laid back southern groove. Lizz Wright is refreshingly down to earth.

"I went to see Common at BB Kings the other night," she recalls, "and in the cab on the way back I took my feet out of my sandals and I was rubbing them. I was using both hands, really concentrating on it. I wasn't aware that that was awkward. But a friend of mine made me aware that 'I was real country.' I only keep my shoes on here in New York, but I still get in trouble for taking them off when I go home."

Salt's substance is deep: Verve Chairman Tommy LiPuma produced, bringing in such jazz experts as drummer/producer Brian Blade, keyboardists Jon Cowherd and Kenny Banks (Wright's Atlanta-based music director), saxophonist Chris Potter, and percussionist Jeff Haynes. They help push Wright to surprising heights that would be impressive for anyone, but which are simply stunning for a newcomer.

"When I am learning something I play it over and over again on disc until it echoes back into my life and feels like a part of me," says Wright. "One of my favorite tracks on the record is 'Goodbye.' That was so beautiful, I just let it right in. I didn't know the song. But it opened me up to some things I will be doing in the future."

Wright's own songs are part old school soul, part new school jazz-funk. Her titles resemble the essential elements: "Salt," "Eternity," "Silence," "Fire."

"Hmm," she ponders. "I didn't realize that, but 'Blue Rose' is earth, 'Eternity' could be air, and there is 'Fire.'" Wow. It is weird. I have studied the Yoruba tradition, it like Greek Mythology but African. And in Yoruba, God is personified by certain personalities and certain gifts called Orishas. I was studying the different characteristics of people who are water signs and fire signs in Yoruba. My teachers never agreed on whether I was water or fire. So they named me 'one who can transform.' It is Sheraphin. It means passionate, burning and transforming. But I had no idea those similar ideas came across in the songs."

Like a jazz medium, Lizz Wright is perhaps channeling powers, signs, and past souls that even she is not aware of. Long may she run.