If drug-company advertisements can be believed, we are a nation of sleep-chasing insomniacs tormented by the cruel red gaze of a digital alarm clock. But if Lunesta’s lengthy list of side effects is enough to keep you out of the medicine cabinet, pianist Jenny Lin has a midnight snack for you.

That’s not to say that the well-rested won’t also enjoy her delicious new disc. Stocked with pieces thematically tied to nighttime dreams and anxieties, the thread binds together ten tracks that reach back as far as Raymond Scott’s Sleepwalker (1936), and move up to Insomnia Redux; 4 am, a work written for Lin in 2003 by Daniel Felsenfeld (a TONY contributor).

Lin is a diligent study, the kind of artist you can trust to take you anywhere she wants to go, and it’s not hard to hear how she herself might be kept up nights. There’s a distilled, unflagging energy that permeates her performances, and a clean, crisp force to the sound she gets out of her instrument. The music runs the gamut of sleep-related inspirations: Cornelius Dufallo’s Night Visions raises the pulse rate with ominous clusters and dampened piano strings; Michael Byron’s brief As She Sleeps lightens the mood, in the vein of a sun-laced afternoon catnap. Lin brings out the fantasy in William Bolcom’s “Dream Shadows” (from Three Ghost Rags) without wallowing in period nostalgia. The standout track, however, is Frederic Rzewski’s arresting Mayn Yingele; Lin flies through its intense aerobic demands with characteristically inexhaustible fingers.