CD: Sheryl Crow - Feels Like Home

American pop-rocker's ninth album sticks resolutely to the middle of the road

share this article

What is the point of Sheryl Crow? She’s been around for decades but to what purpose? What makes her art worthwhile? She seems a liberal sort, does good things for decent causes, keeps interesting company, but everything she touches turns to US FM radio easy. She likes the smell of rock’n’roll but never looks to have mired herself in it which, making the kind of music she does, country-tinged blues-rock, rather misses the point. She’s a nice, pretty, all-American cheerleader who’s ended up centre stage via hard work, networking and shopping mall anthems such as “All I Wanna Do” and, God help us, “Every Day is a Winding Road”. She even did a Bond theme! How did that happen?

Feels Like Home is her ninth album, more of the usual for whoever likes this stuff (mostly Americans, Belgians and Canadians by the look of her stats). She can write a decent lyric, specific, storytelling in that wonderful country song way, none of your opaque Coldplay-style flannel. Unfortunately the accompanying musical recipe is a broth of early Seventies Stones, diluted until unrecognisable, then stirred into a characterless goulash of Eagles love songs and Dolly Parton weepies. In fact, if Dolly Parton did the witty “We Oughta Be Drinkin’” there’s little doubt it would be much more fun. It’s a good song. Crow, however, has smoothed and polished it until it passes with oiled, edgeless ease.

“Waterproof Mascara” is another Parton-alike and so preposterously hokey it’s almost likeable, and there are a few others among the wet balladry and filler that, in other hands, would wave a flag and ask listeners to pay attention – the wanna-be rockin’ “Shotgun”, the Nashville-friendly “Crazy Ain’t Original”, the twangy, harmonica-touting and softly indignant “Best of Times”. Crow, however, renders everything a jolly, U-certificate, daytime TV simulacrum of classic rock.

Overleaf: watch the creepily twee video for "Easy", a song that even namechecks the unbearable Jack Johnson

Comments

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically.
A broth of early Seventies Stones, diluted until unrecognisable, then stirred into a characterless goulash of Eagles love songs and Dolly Parton weepies

rating

2

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing!

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

more new music

A new Renaissance at this Moroccan festival of global sounds
The very opposite of past it, this immersive offering is perfectly timed
Hardcore, ambient and everything in between
A major hurdle in the UK star's career path proves to be no barrier
Electronic music perennial returns with an hour of deep techno illbience
What happened after the heart of Buzzcocks struck out on his own
Fourth album from unique singer-songwriter is patchy but contains gold
After the death of Mimi Parker, the duo’s other half embraces all aspects of his music
Experimental rock titan on never retiring, meeting his idols and Swans’ new album
Psychedelic soft rock of staggering ambition that so, so nearly hits the brief
Nineties veterans play it safe with their latest album