Music

By Janice Castro

TONI CHILDS has done something tougher than just make another terrific record here. She has beat the jinx. Her debut album in 1988, Union, was one of those comet-like appearances that occur more frequently in pop music than they do in the firmament, leaving the listener simultaneously dazzled and wondering, a bit uneasily, if she could ever do it again. Many don't, after all. But then, it's becoming increasingly clear that Toni Childs plays only by her own rules. HOUSE OF HOPE (A&M) is a record about emotional battering: in love, in childhood, in marriage. The songs, mostly written and produced with the formidable David Ricketts, soar and surprise; the lyrics have a spare astringency, which is just the right tone in which to tell these tales of burdened hearts and spirits that, against all odds and expectations, refuse to * be broken. You can hear House of Hope pouring out of the car radio this summer as Thelma and Louise barrel along in their T-Bird convertible into the mythical heart of American pop culture. When they stop to refuel, they'll find Childs right there. Outlaws of the heart, all of them. J.C.