Patty Griffin Albums (5)
What The Critics Say
Patty Griffin's raucous second album Flaming Red was a shocking departure from the critically noticed Living with Ghosts. It placed solid, searing rock & roll and big bad drumbeat up against the still developing authority of her voice. On Impossible Dream, she married country and her own brand of gospel in an intimate and musically seductive mix. The reason for stating the obvious is that the Mike McCarthy-produced Children Running Through is the moment Griffin has been striving for her entire career thus far, that place where she "arrived" in her own aesthetic and professional view, the album that cements the emotional and musical adventure of the former album and the clarity of vision, the seamlessness of the execution and the precision of the latter. In the process of recording, one wonders if it ever occurred to Griffin that this was such a magical moment, an album that both she had been waiting to make, and the one her fans, no matter how devoted, had been waiting for. Smoky and jazz-tinged, with Glenn Worf's double bass strolling through the first verse, "You'll Remember" that gets kissed by Michael Longoria's brushed drums is her evocative song of hoped-for memory and resilience, and is breathtaking in its poetic sparseness. This is underscored and shifted by the tough, acoustic guitar and horn laced acoustic R&B in "Stay on the Road." The prominence of her voice in the mix is startling. She stands right out in front of her band and lets the raw soul just pour out of her mouth. She changes up again on the gorgeous country of the tragically haunting "Trapeze" with backing vocals by Emmylou Harris. Griffin's song is lyrically her own, but there is a trace of Bruce Springsteen's country-ish phrasing in her delivery. As Harris' duet vocal joins on the second verse, the tale strips itself of time and place and becomes a folk song, a tale told too often but never in this way as the refrain lays out a proverb for the ages: "Some people don't care if they live or they die/Some people want to know what it feels like to fly/They gather their courage and they give it a try/And fall under the wheels of time going by." The song builds to a stirring climax and the final word, "Hallelujah," resonates long after the track concludes. Griffin hardly lets these three songs, filled with their wisdom and loss, dominate her recording. "Getting Ready" is a burning, snaky rockabilly tune for the 21st century. In it, one can hear the energy of Johnny Burnette and the punk rock determinism of the early Pretenders. This is a song of self-determination and the acknowledgement of emotional and sexual power. There's yet another twist in the utterly gorgeous "Burgundy Shoes," a ballad that swirls into a celebration of a mother, or grandmother, that rings to the skies with gratitude and remembrance. Once more, as she does for the rest of the set, Griffin shifts gears toward her own brand of secular gospel in "Heavenly Day" with a stirring string section that underscores the soaring conviction and joy in her vocal, and Ian McLagan's piano is straight from the gut, caressing her voice until it's time to push it into the stratosphere, which he does. (You all guessed right: this is the same song she loaned to Solomon Burke for his Nashville album.) "Up to the Mountain (The MLK Song)" is another gospel number based on the "I Have a Dream" speech delivered on the day before Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. Griffin's reverence here is so profound it feels like she deliberately gives up some of the authority she expresses on the rest of the album out of respect. And that's fine. She lets the low strings and McLagan's grand piano guide her to the peak of the mountain she sings about. She never goes over it but points to the dignity of the man, the integrity of his spirituality, and the depth of his courage, and carries his inspiration in the grain of her voice. This is followed by her own testament in "I Don't Ever Give Up," a song -- ushered in quietly by percussion and an acoustic guitar -- about determination in the face of discouragement, error and downright oppression. As the swelling strings buoy her voice she looks outside the song and then back in for what she needs to carry it through and reveal her truth. There's more here, much more. All of Griffin's previous albums have merit, all of them are fine works in and of themselves, but Children Running Through is the kind of summation of an arrival. Griffin is the mature, fully in control artist here; she knows what she wants and she knows how to get there. Her songwriting is leaner yet more evocative, her singing stronger and more confident, and her manner of illustration is spot-on; the song is true simply because she delivers it that way. Finally, this recording, like Van Morrison's Moondance, Emmylou Harris' Luxury Liner, Bonnie Raitt's Give It Up and Aretha Franklin's I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You, signals not the arrival of a great artist -- there are so few these days -- but the fully formed artist at the height of her creative and demonstrative power. Children Running Through is Patty Griffin's masterpiece thus far. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Impossible Dream retains the intimate, "live" recording quality of 2002's 1,000 Kisses, especially on tracks like "Florida," where you can almost smell the cigarette smoke Patty Griffin sings about. But it also emits a melancholy signal from somewhere deeper than live, a hazy place lined with the shelves of memory. "Mother of God" and "Kite" are spare, piano-led pieces recalling a life's decisions or a child's emotions on a single summer day. Griffin's gorgeous vocals make their atmosphere touchable. But Impossible Dream also benefits from the production of Austin pal Craig Ross. He deftly clarifies the album's stylistic contours, but is careful to cultivate them inside the album's overall pensiveness. "Standing" is a deconstructed gospel number that sidles into something a little more sultry, while "Love Throw a Line" starts Impossible Dream with a slight Texas shuffle. Guests like guitarist Doug Lancio and Emmylou Harris and Buddy and Julie Miller -- who contributed supporting vocals throughout -- also help shade the album's more robust material. Harris seems like Griffin's vocal muse for the folk build of "Useless Desires," which includes some lovely, swirling violin work from Lisa Germano. "Say goodbye to the old street that never cared much for you anyway," Griffin sings in bittersweet farewell to a hometown. And then, a little prescient joke. "Weekend Edition has this town way overrated." Germano returns for the quietly intense relationship meditation "Top of the World." As the song fades from its aching climax, it's replaced by a scratchy kitchen table recording of "Impossible Dream," performed with TLC by Griffin's parents. The moment intensifies the feeling that this LP is Griffin's greatest journey of personal reflection. Her memories, longing, regrets, and desires define an album that's as listenable as it is meaningful. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Patty Griffin's third album, her first material to be released since 1998 (the absorption of her former label, A&M, in the Polygram-Universal merger left an album Griffin cut in 2000 in the vault, where it's sadly likely to stay), strikes a stylistic middle ground between the stark voice-and-guitar approach of her debut, Living with Ghosts, and the eclectic textures of Flaming Red. 1,000 Kisses was mostly recorded live in the studio with a small acoustic band, including Doug Lancio on guitar and mandolin, Brian Standefer on cello, Giles Reeves on vibraphone and percussion, and Michael Ramos on accordion; the feel of the performances is close and intimate, with the occasional cough or footfall audible in the background, and these sessions capture more than a bit of the cinéma vérité mood of Living with Ghosts. But if the album's production style is subtle, it's also a superb match for the material, and without forcing their hand, Griffin and the musicians can sway from the life-on-the-street swagger of "Chief" to the Latin romanticism of "Mil Besos" to the torchy late-night blues of "Tomorrow Night" without missing a step, finding a broad emotional spectrum in these low-key sessions. And while 1,000 Kisses finds Griffin blending covers in with her own compositions for the first time, she proves to be a first-rate interpretive singer (her version of Bruce Springsteen's "Stolen Car" actually improves on "the Boss"' original), and her own songs are splendid, especially the moving widow's lament "Making Pies" and the moody lead-off track "Rain." And regardless of who wrote the material, Griffin's voice -- a tower of strength capable of expressing remarkable emotional vulnerability -- remains a wonder to behold. 1,000 Kisses finds Patty Griffin at the top of her game, and one can only hope we don't have to wait four years for the follow-up. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Patty Griffin's Living with Ghosts was an impressive debut, but its spare acoustic arrangements occasionally made it sound more like a sketchbook than a completed album. Shortly after its release, her label commissioned a new version of "Let Him Fly," which matched her vocals to a full live band. Satisfied with the results, Griffin decided to flesh out the instrumentation on her second album Flaming Red and the results are revelatory. Griffin didn't stick with traditional rock arrangments -- she also recorded country-rock, folk, catchy pop and even trip-hop songs, as well. Instead of camouflaging her songwriting, it actually reveals the richness of her music and lyrics. Her sonic revision may be more accessible, but it's no compromise -- Flaming Red is evidence that Griffin is one the more talented and ambitious singer/songwriters to emerge in the late '90s. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Patty Griffin's major-label debut was actually recorded as a demo cassette. A&M executives were so impressed with this raw display of talent that they snatched up the tape and threw it, unaltered, into the marketplace. Griffin recorded her songs exactly as she performed them live, armed with only her acoustic guitar and a voice that can rattle fences. While dozens of folk artists have attempted to bend the ear of the major labels by coating their acoustics with radio-friendly keyboards and drums, Griffin took the gutsy "band? I don't need no stinking band" approach. It's primarily a testament to her voice that A&M was so taken with her minimalism; as a guitarist, Griffin isn't much more than an energetic strummer. Her songwriting is only occasionally exceptional -- her word choices are as minimal as her arrangements, and her melodies are engaging but conventional. But she is nonetheless a striking and intriguing storyteller, because her tales of chronically lonely people are told with such passion. Griffin's Nashville-tinged warble has tremendous emotional range, one minute cracking with brittle vulnerability, the next minute blasting with passionate intensity. Occasionally it seems Griffin's demo engineers were unequipped to handle her vibrant transitions, setting the microphone level for a whisper then cringing as the speakers bristle and the needles slam into the red. But this subtle idiosyncrasy only adds to the charm of the album, lending to the impression that no stereo is big enough to contain this voice. ~ Darryl Cater, All Music Guide
