Even though pop acts frequently tour for months at a time, the vast majority only give one performance. Whether in Los Angeles or Memphis, you are basically seeing the same package--from song selection to emotional tone.

Not so, thankfully, with Ani DiFranco.

One reason the 26-year-old singer-songwriter is among the half-dozen most compelling figures in all of contemporary pop is that she makes each time on stage a night of exploration and search. In that way and in the range of her work, she's reminiscent of the young Bruce Springsteen.

That's why many of the New Yorker's fans cheered when DiFranco decided to play the Mayan Theatre for two nights this week rather than the slightly larger Wiltern Theatre for one night. It's not so much that the Mayan offers a more intimate show. It's that the plan gave fans two chances to see her. And the capacity crowds Wednesday and Thursday were treated to different but equally revealing experiences.

On Wednesday, DiFranco--whose basic style is a dynamic mix of the contemplation of folk music and intensity of rock--seemed concerned about just where she fit on the pop map. In one of her frequent and disarming asides between songs, DiFranco said that she sometimes panics backstage because she feels the waiting crowd is wanting to rock out and that she's just this "little folk singer."

To her, she continued, the energy and expectations of rock are akin to someone on a giant stage holding a blow torch to a can of gasoline, while the simplicity and character of folk music are like someone out in the parking lot trying to start a fire by rubbing two sticks together.

She then extended the sense of her own confusion over the issue by playing a gentle song by another folk singer who was caught up in the tension and pyrotechnics of the rock world: Bob Dylan.

Fittingly, she didn't turn to one of Dylan's signature tunes from the '60s, but to a relatively obscure ballad from the '80s. Yet "Most of the Time" fit in perfectly with DiFranco's tales of sexual and social politics. It's a song that celebrates independence and bravado, yet acknowledges weakness and need.

In turning to her own tunes, the prolific writer didn't just plug her latest album but picked songs from various points in her career, even previewing some from her next album, which is due in February on her own Righteous Babe label.

Whatever the number, DiFranco and a pair of backing musicians (longtime drummer Andy Stochansky and new bassist Jason Mercer) tended to give it a raucous edge. DiFranco at times played guitar with an almost metal fury, while Stochansky brought such a colorful clang to some of the tunes that you'd think he was playing on steel drums.

If DiFranco displayed enough drive much of the time Wednesday to rock the Forum, she offered a more tender and wistful side Thursday that would have been right at home around a campfire under the stars.

Though some songs were carried over, the bulk of the 80-minute set was different, with the early focus on new songs, including the title tune to her upcoming album, "Pretty Little Castles," (sic) which is a look at the differences between perception and reality.

In the folk tradition of most of her songs, including "Not a Pretty Girl" and "32 Flavors," both of which she also performed Thursday, DiFranco writes in a style that is at once autobiographical and universal. So, it's natural that her stories between songs--which were totally different the two nights--share these characteristics.

Rather than the Dylan tune, she turned to another folk legend, Woody Guthrie, to supplement her own songs on Thursday. The choice--"Do Re Mi," a bittersweet Dust Bowl tale about greener California pastures--seemed especially appropriate in this time and place.

So which side of DiFranco was more satisfying?

It's like asking whether you prefer a game-winning home run hit to left field or right field.