Sing It Ain’t So: Sheryl Crow is Done with the Album Thing

Sheryl Crow recently appeared as part of a round-table discussion, hosted by Linda Perry, singer, producer, and co-founder of “We Are Hear,” an artist empowerment company focused on developing and nurturing the creative. Along with Grimes (representing the younger voice in music) and Dolly Parton (the legendary one), Crow shared her thoughts on where’s she at today as far as creating music, leading her to disclose that she’s “done with the album thing,” seeing as “people don’t buy records anymore.” Regardless of what Crow’s career looks like going forward, she will always be a writer… and so much more. This prompted me to revisit a post I wrote about Crow’s “Now That You’re Gone” from Detours:

As much as Sheryl Crow is known for wanting to have some fun or soak up the sun, she is one of the best at chronicling breakups. From 1998’s basically perfect, Stones-inspired “My Favorite Mistake,” to 2005’s deeply somber release, Wildflower, she can get down in the dumps—“the real low down,” as she once sang on 1996’s “If It Makes You Happy.” Crow can certainly craft songs that drip with loneliness, anger and uncertainty over the derailment of a relationship. Her 2008 release, Detours, was her most political album, this time expressing her sadness over the derailment of our nation as a whole, the world at large off course. One of the tracks, “Now That You’re Gone,” is a return to classic Crow, feeling almost Wildflower low. With strings making a prevalent appearance, it’s another reason the song sounds like it could’ve originated on that strongly symphonic Wildflower.

“Gone” reflects Crow’s ability to write lyrics that sound seemingly romantic and positive, yet by their end quickly turn to the dark and negative (“We made a bed of roses/But I got pricked by thorns.”). And just as a silver lining appears regarding the separation, that she’ll be able to move on unscathed, hesitation creeps back in: “And I’m afraid some long, lonely road will lead me back to you again.” Thankfully, Crow does make it unscathed. After a year on that long, lonely road, she arrived back home, secure and certain, to more soulfully sunny roots, in the form of 100 Miles From Memphis, with the realization that favorite mistakes happen, wildflowers wither, and detours eventually get you back on track.