Detours

Crow hasn't been this free or fine since "Sheryl Crow," but there is an emotional directness on Detours that makes this a progression, not a retreat.

Crow's progressive lyrics hit like rubber-band pings fired by some joker in the back row at school. No one is likely to sing her verses at a march on Washington. But by addressing serious issues in the language of pop, they remind us that political speech and casual breeze-shooting can and do often intersect.

There's not a groan-worthy song on this standout rock/pop/folk/blues album.

The roots-rock of Detours is old-school-sounding Crow now with a heightened consciousness of the world around her.

Crow's strong, eclectic new album, "Detours," is filled with optimism about finding a way to correct her course.

Crow has managed the nearly impossible: recording an album that's as intensely personal as it is fiercely political.

Detours is so good that even the middling songs are chock full of taste treats.

That play of sonic summer and spiritual winter shades this. [Mar 2008, p.102]

Crow's earnest, adult-contemporary crooning isn't as musically subversive as that of her protest-singer predecessors, but some of the scrappier cuts here ('God Bless This Mess,' 'Shine Over Babylon') are genuinely compelling.

What holds these fourteen songs together is Crow's unwavering emotional commitment.

Detours may not be the most musically edgy album you'll listen to this year, but there aren't many people better at producing radio-friendly rock/pop.

While 'Make It Go Away (Radiation Song)' lacks the subtle lyrical twist (and a decent tune) of some of the other moments on Detours, it is a sober counterpoint to the image of Crow as all hair, tan and teeth. It also contrasts with the album's stand-out, 'Love Is All There Is,' which brings us back to more familiar Crow country on an album of big themes and surprising depth.