Allison Moorer's Mockingbird was released a mere two weeks after her sister Shelby Lynne's Just a Little Lovin', a Dusty Springfield covers tribute. Moorer's album is a natural sounding set of covers that runs the gamut from rock and barrelhouse blues, to jazz, country, and traditional and indie folk. Mockingbird was produced by Buddy Miller and includes a stellar cast of players including husband Steve Earle, Richard Bennett, Julie Miller, Darrell Scott, Tammy Rogers, Tim O'Brien, and Phil Madeira. It feels organic. The set opens with the title cut, the only original. It's a breezy acoustic ballad with warmly layered guitars, a brushed snare, a hi-hat, a B-3, and the Nashville String Machine ensemble. The cut shifts midway and becomes a graceful pop tune kissed by R&B, courtesy of Jim Hoke's tough tenor sax solo. June Carter's "Ring of Fire" is in a very slow 4/4 with violin, viola, and B-3 walking alongside the singer as she lets her voice just ring out over the top. The reading of Patti Smith's "Dancin' Barefoot" has to be heard to be believed. It's a contender for best track on the set. Moorer's enunciation captures what is at the heart of Smith's song, expressing a powerful desire as it surrenders to raw need. The lyrics walk a knife's edge as the singer observes herself in both first and third person. It's awash in blazing electric guitars, tambourines, cymbals, popping drums and organ; they wash through it all violently, yet reflect the lyrics perfectly. Moorer's take on Nina Simone's "Sugar in My Bowl" is a bluesier one. She can sing anything; her voice sways, swings, and swoops through acoustic guitars, bluesed out keyboards, and whispering drums. It's wonderful to hear Kate McGarrigle's "Go Leave" again, especially given this spare, reverential treatment. It will hopefully create in listeners the desire to investigate the McGarrigle Sisters' own records. Moorer's voice simply allows the song to have its way; she follows its turns with rapt attention. A New Orleans style bass drum, mandolin, Earle's nasty guitar, and a vintage microphone displace time on Ma Rainey's "Daddy Goodbye Blues." Of the remaining tracks, Moorer's interpretation of Julie Miller's "Orphan Train" takes us down a moving path: her father killed Moorer's mother and himself, in front of her and Lynne. Lynne's stirring "She Knows Where She Goes," precedes it. Together they reflect the deliberately forgotten, topically tragic side of the American country tradition -- Nashville is just plain afraid of songs like this. The album nears its end with Chan Marshall's simple yet deeply moving "Where Is My Love," especially as a follow-up to the aforementioned cuts. It feels as if it's sung by a survivor; an empty handed, full-hearted hero who paid the price and has little but loneliness to show for it. When Moorer, Buddy Miller, and company bring it to close with Jessi Colter's lusty "I'm Looking for Blue Eyes," it's as if the circle that began with "Mockingbird" is complete. Moorer, who has followed a restless career path through the wiles of Nashville's machine and lived to tell about it, ups her own ante here both creatively and emotionally. It is her warmest, most ambitious, and gutsy record yet. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Allison Moorer's fifth studio album, Getting Somewhere, opens with the words "I got a lot of work to do," and Moorer obviously wasn't kidding -- the album packs ten songs into a little over 31 minutes, with the singer and songwriter backed by a lean and scrappy four-piece band on most of the tracks, and the results are as emotionally potent and hard-edged as anything she has ever released. Tapping into her own ravaged childhood on "I Don't Know How She Does It" and "New Year's Day," her fears and anxieties about the world around her on "Getting Somewhere" and the current state of her heart and mind on "Take It So Hard," "If It's Just for Today," and "Where You Are," Getting Somewhere is a deeply personal work, but one that's presented without an excess of fuss or showboating. With her husband Steve Earle in the producer's chair, the album sounds as clear and direct as Moorer's songs (she wrote all ten tracks with the exception of one collaboration with Earle), and if the backing isn't as raucous as on 2004's The Duel, there isn't a wasted note or gesture on this record, and the leaner approach makes more room for Moorer's singing. And though Moorer's voice can fill as much space as is necessary, she doesn't overplay here, giving the songs as much filigree as they can use and no more. If fans were hoping for a grander gesture than Getting Somewhere, they're probably not listening close enough -- this album is full of soul, intelligence, and fine music created by a truly gifted singer, and the elegance of its presentation is one of its greatest virtues. In an era of bloated and overproduced albums, Moorer has delivered a small wonder with Getting Somewhere, and it ranks with her best music to date. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
Once upon a time, Allison Moorer was a country artist who sang for a major record label. It might be easy then, to see her switch to Sugar Hill as a back-to-the-basics move, a reconnection with her country roots. Moorer, however, isn't that predictable, and The Duel -- while many things -- isn't country. In fact, the opening cut -- "I Ain't Giving Up on You" -- sounds a lot like classic rock and most of the album follows this course. This is interesting, in that Moorer's a strong writer, and it would've been easy to fall back on a tasteful country-folk production and become a fairly typical singer/songwriter. Instead, Moorer's plucky vocals, along with Adam Landry's electric guitar work and R.S. Field's steady backbeat, turn a song like "Melancholy Polly" into an easy-rolling romp. Another factor that makes the songs on The Duel so effective is that Moorer, besides being good at penning lyrics, is smart enough to write catchy hooks. This means that the listener doesn't have to be into the lyrics of "When Will You Ever Come Down" to enjoy the intriguing chord progressions. Even when country elements enter the picture, like John Davis' steel on "One on the House," one is reminded of Neil Young's Harvest more than country. Moorer seems to have found a comfortable spot to express her artistic whim at her new label, and The Duel is the happy result. ~ Ronnie D. Lankford Jr., All Music Guide
On Show, singer/songwriter Allison Moorer follows up her stellar Miss Fortune album with a live collection recorded at Music City's famed 12th & Porter. Playing songs drawn from her three previous studio outings, she also includes a tough and trashy version of Neil Young's barroom classic "Don't Cry No Tears." In addition to performing her material with uncompromising honesty and brutal emotional intensity, Moorer gets the most from her backing band and a couple of guests. For those who own the studio records and wonder, the versions of well-known songs here -- such as "Alabama Song," "Easy Place to Fall," "Send Me Down an Angel," "Is Heaven Good Enough for You," or "Day You Said Goodbye" -- along with virtually every other cut here, are wrought with a raw immediacy that's impossible to capture in a recording studio. The balance of ringing acoustic guitars, whinnying pedal steels, and crunching electric guitars juxtaposed with Hammond B3s and honky tonk pianos is stirring. And Moorer's voice, unedited and in its natural state, offers further proof of her originality and rough-hewn grace. In this landscape, her songs stand out individually as mini-epics of burning love, unrequited passion, and an affair's aftermath in the ashes. Whether it's the slow groove of "Steal the Sun," the burning country-rock of "Going Down" (with sister Shelby Lynne on backing vocals), the funky strut of "Bully Jones" (a duet with up-and-coming country crooner Bob Richie [aka Kid Rock]), or the undulating gypsy-ballad-music-meets-Brecht-ian-substance-abuse-tragedy in "Dying Breed," the effect is the same: badass country music delivered with an edgy testiness and musical professionalism. In sum, this is how live records should be made. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Rather than open her Universal South debut with a boot-stompin' rave, Moorer sounds an autumnal tone -- not just on the opening track, but on the first three. Though several up-tempo tunes do follow, this muted quality pervades Miss Fortune. Clearly the point is that Moorer intends to move past her identification with traditional country into a more personalized and varied realm in which she exercises full creative control. Make no mistake: This is a country album, but it's closer to what the music might have become rather than to where it has sunk in its current doldrums. A honey-toned and expressive singer, Moorer does seem more at home with slower, thoughtful material; on faster numbers, like "Ruby Jewel Was Here" and "Hey Jezebel," her phrasing is more affected -- in fact, the grooves are transparently derivative, reflecting the Band and the Stones, respectively. On the other hand, when she slinks into a Kurt Weill pose on the closing track, "Dying Breed," she feels totally at home with the idiom and its interpretive implications. Despite the ambiguity of the title, Miss Fortune suggests an intriguing turn for Moorer, not to mention affirmation that there are still opportunities to experiment outside the boardrooms of Music Row. ~ Robert L. Doerschuk, All Music Guide
The year 2000 proved to be a momentous year for this Alabama native. Obviously influenced by the soulful, mature departure from contemporary country music taken by her sister Shelby Lynne on her 2000 release I Am Shelby Lynne, Alison Moorer has similarly grown since her 1998 album Alabama Song. While her debut CD flirted with the fine line between traditional country and the slick Nashville sound, The Hardest Part dives headfirst into a southern soul-tinged countrypolitan sound, complete with string and horn sections. The Beatlesque, mellotron-infused "Send Down an Angel" sounds almost like "Strawberry Fields Forever" with less LSD and more whiskey, while "Is It Worth It" feels like Dusty Springfield is back in Memphis again. The dark final track (unlisted in the liner notes) is a somber murder ballad, a heart-wrenchingly honest reaction to the death of her parents. Her brash, husky vocals hold the album together through heartache and pedal steel, and the fact that she co-wrote and co-produced the album proves that she's more than just a pretty voice. While it took six albums for her sister to realize her dissatisfaction with the limits of the pop country sound, Allison Moorer has made great strides in just two. ~ Zac Johnson, All Music Guide
Alabama Song is country singer and songwriter Allison Moorer's debut album. She attracted the attention of the general public when her song "A Soft Place to Fall" was one of the tracks picked for airplay from the Horse Whisperer soundtrack; it struck a chord with country radio listeners. That cut, along with ten others (nine of them self-penned), along with "The One That Got Away" were written with cigar chomping, chart-topping songwriter Kostas. As a first offering on a major label, writing virtually all of your own material is no mean feat. Producer Kenny Greenberg and executive producer and label boss of MCA Nash Vegas Tony Brown were firm believers in Moorer's promise. What's more compelling is that the set is a near perfect balance between classically styled country tunes and modern Nashville's more pop-oriented approach. With elder statesmen like Glen D. Hardin as arranger, and Justin Niebank as engineer, Greenberg brought in a slew of performers not normally associated with country chart success including Ashley Cleveland, Buddy Miller, Russ Taff and Louise Red. They perform alongside studio aces like guitarist Richard Bennett, Dan Dugmore, Larry Marrs, and Greg Morrow and, of course, Greenberg, a stellar guitarist. While the aforementioned cuts scored the airplay making the album a modest success, other tracks, such as the rootsy folk of "Call My Name," and the high lonesome honky tonk in the title song, "I Found a Letter," "Easier to Forget," and the late night Patsy Cline-esque swing of "Set Me Free," resonate with the alt country crowd who made her a minor patron saint. Either way, it was an auspicious beginning, but MCA cut her loose to Island after just one record. That's no reflection on the album, but on the fact that Moorer was just a little bit ahead of her time. Alabama Song has dated well and continues to be a signpost for contemporary country producers, artists and fans. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide