It's a name that your parents are probably more familiar with, but one that our younger generation shouldn't just shove aside: The commercially and artistically successful Alison Krauss. Whether recording solo or with her band, Union Station, Krauss is the goddess of modern bluegrass music (not an oxymoron, I promise). She has the distinction of being the singer who has won the most Grammy awards of any artist, and she owes three of those (and her subsequent hop over Aretha Franklin for the honor) to the collaborative album with Robert Plant, Raising Sand, which took home Album of the Year among others in 2007.
Her follow-up, Paper Airplane, is no disappointment. Working again with Union Station, Krauss delivers her signature silky vocals accompanied by soulful strings. The tracks range in style from lilting and beautiful like her 2001 single ""The Lucky One,"" to haunting like her duet with Brad Paisley on ""Whiskey Lullaby"" (the 2005 CMA Song of the Year). Three tracks don't feature Krauss's vocals at all, relying only on the talents of Union Station. Highly reminiscent of music found on the ""O Brother Where Art Thou?"" soundtrack, these tracks (""Dust Bowl Children,"" ""On the Outside Looking In"" and ""Bonita and Bill Butler"") are true to bluegrass, but are less likely to end up on my iPod. Without Krauss's recognizable notes, they fail to retain her cross-genre appeal.
The tracks that do feature her angelic voice make the album more than worth a listen. The title track, ""Paper Airplane,"" opens the album with uncharacteristic sweeping gusto in Krauss' voice, showcasing her range and vocal prowess right away. Topically, it's odd to begin an album with, talking about a love that is ending: ""Almost over now / Our love is like a paper airplane / Flying in the folding wind / Riding high, dipping low."" Subject matter aside, it's beautiful.
Similarly, ""Lie Awake"" is a song with haunting opening chords more recognizable as Krauss' signature. Never hesitating to sing about real issues (like the gambling addiction in ""The Lucky One"" and suicide in ""Whiskey Lullaby""), the lyrics reveal someone on the verge of depression. It's a look at stagnation, someone with no reason to go on, just the knowledge that one should.
""Lay My Burden Down"" features a point of view that seems to be from beyond the grave. Echoing the voice in ""Lie Awake,"" this person is restless but without reason. She is in heaven—shouldn't life be perfect? Yet the voice still has one foot in the real world, looking at what feels like an eternity without the one she loves.
Next is ""My Love Follows You Where You Go,"" and the title really says it all. My second favorite on the album next to ""Paper Airplane,"" this one is about letting go while continuing to love someone who leaves. The lyrics suggest this person is a child: ""Future like a promise / You're a city of gold . . . Seeing you stand there / Staring at the unknown / I won't pretend that it's not killing me / Watching you walk away slow."" As sad as the lyrics sound, a more upbeat tempo and a heavier drum balance the melancholy feel with a celebratory one, making it a gorgeous number that is sure to bring tears to any mother's eyes if played at her child's graduation or wedding (hint).
In ""Dimming of the Day,"" the background music shifts to a solemn tone and the beat becomes dimmer, giving its title physical significance. It discusses long distances and how lives become intertwined in a relationship and then have to tear apart once that relationship crumbles. It's sad, but Krauss pulls it off without becoming too sappy. ""Sinking Stone"" is yet another new voice and talks about breaking free from a relationship that is going nowhere, about getting out before the drowning commences.
""Miles to Go"" is a commentary about life and the distances it takes you, but says it in a light, pleasant medium. Its lilting vocals give it a gypsy-like effect: ""Another memory is another slamming door . . . petals start to fade / Near the picket fence just another shade / Of miles to go."" Someday, it will make great background music for a movie scene in which a girl drives down a highway in a car at dusk. Stereotypical? Yes. Still a great song? Of course.
The final track, ""My Opening Farewell,"" showcases how time passes while you aren't looking and how it's so hard to leave a relationship when you truly care about the other person: Krauss sings, ""We'll soon be gone / ‘Tis just as well / This is my opening farewell."" The lyrics are poignant, the topic a difficult one and Krauss' vocals still shine, but is there a greater significance to the words? Could this album be the beginning of the end of Krauss's collaboration with Union Station? Or of her nearly 30-year music career?
Is this Alison Krauss' ""opening farewell""?
I hope not. I always look forward to seeing new music from Krauss and Union Station, not because I know it will be ground breaking or innovative, but because I know it will always be a wonderful showcase of all the best of the bluegrass world: Great musicians, well-written lyrics and the signature heavenly vocals that make Krauss the bluegrass goddess of the last three decades.
