Rosanne Cash Albums (10)
What The Critics Say
In the 22 months that passed between the release of Rosanne Cash's wonderfully articulated Rules of Travel and Black Cadillac, she became an orphan. She lost her stepmother, June Carter Cash, in May of 2003; her father, Johnny, passed away in September of that same year; and in May of 2005, her mother, Vivian Liberto Cash Distin, left this world as well. According to Cash, she began writing the songs for Black Cadillac in spring 2003 and ended in spring 2005. She began recording in November 2004. In other words, the album is the aural documentation of a process of grief, loss, and acceptance. And though her family was not the typical American family, this set is universal in its concepts. Certainly, it is an elegy; her father's presence is everywhere here. It is also more than that; it is a reckoning, with memory, anger, love, joy, grief, pain, and resolve. The set opens with Johnny's disembodied voice calling her: "Rosanne, c'mon." And the title track kicks into gear with a rumbling bass, a drum kit, and guitars emerging sparsely, surrounding her voice as she sings, "It was a black Cadillac/That drove you away...Now one of us gets to go to heaven/While one has to stay here in hell." The guitars explode into the mix, carrying the refrain, breaking open not only the tune, but her heart: "It was a black Cadillac/Like the one you used to drive/You were always rollin'/But the wheels burnt up your life/It's a black heart of pain I'm wearin'/That suits me just fine/'Cause there was nothin' I could do for you/While you were still alive." These lyrics, the swirling six strings, a funky Fender Rhodes, the crashing of drums, and the distant, tinny horns quoting their place in "Ring of Fire," as the track ends, while it opens up the focus of the rest of the disc -- it becomes the mission statement for the heart-rendering that follows. Cash has a history of searing honesty; Interiors and The Wheel are just two examples. But Black Cadillac engages it in a different way. She disguises nothing. There are no extended painterly metaphors. These are open and direct songs without self-pity, without artifice. Writing about her parents, she expresses regret, but doesn't ask for more time; there is only the open, unbowed humility of gratitude and the weight and burden of history, and experience that results in wisdom. In "I Was Watching You," she recounts her history from youth to age 50 with Johnny, and amid the atmospheric arrangements, she states plaintively, "Long after life/There is love." It's the crack in the record that becomes the catalyst for her search for meaning after these experiences. There are rockers, too, such as "Burn This Town Down," which struts its country, rock, and roots simultaneously. Yet it's all beside the point. From "God Is in the Roses," a nearly straight-up country tune that re-engages faith in God not as a concept, but as a place for the soul to find solace and rest in life's most difficult occurrences, the question of faith looms large on Black Cadillac. In "World Without Sound" she states, "I wish I was a Christian/And knew what to believe/I could learn a lot of rules/To put my mind at ease." "Like Fugitives" indicts religion -- and a few other things -- to a slippery trip-hop rhythm track and expresses anger purely and simply. The rocking "Dreams Are Not My Home" feels like it were written for Dire Straits. The poetic lyric is offered authoritatively against acoustic and electric guitars. This tune is a manifesto. Its refrain digs against the illusions of the past and the many temptations to escape the difficult present: "I want to live in the real world/I want to act like a real girl/I want to know I'm not alone/And that dreams are not my home." The bluesy country-rock in "House on the Lake" (referring to the old Cash home in Hendersonville, TN) evokes memory and the notion of place as a metaphor for passage and return. The guitars turn and wind around mandolin passages that underscore the determined declaration in Cash's voice. Cash has always been a pioneer and experimented freely. Since the release of 1990's Interiors, she has distanced herself -- on records -- from her family's country roots; in the process, she's carved a small niche in the nebulous adult alternative "genre." Black Cadillac shows the songwriter coming full circle without compromise. Her signature brand of country music has become part of her mix again. She has always employed rock and pop sounds even on her early outings. Cash embraces country here as a part of the sonic tapestry that includes every kind of music she's interested in. This set was recorded in Los Angeles with Bill Botrell (the odd numbered cuts) and in New York with husband-producer John Leventhal (the even numbered ones), and it's an album that CMT and even country radio can warm to. (This is interesting, because in 2006 the music the genre consciously employs and strives to include is something Cash helped to pioneer as far back as the 1980s.) This album is extraordinary. It is brave, difficult, and honest. It is utterly moving and beautiful. Because it so successfully marries all of her strengths as a songwriter, singer, and musician, Black Cadillac may be the crowning achievement of her career thus far. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
At every level, Rules of Travel distinguishes itself. A latecomer to songwriting, Rosanne Cash delivers plenty of compelling material, fully comparable in quality to the album's two non-original cuts. She comes up with fresh and intriguing chord changes to end verses and choruses on the title track, and images whose rugged eloquence perfectly fits the early-morning mumble of Steve Earle on "I'll Change for You." On "September When It Comes," she switches to a more homespun, folkloric imagery that suits her father's weathered, timeless rumble. The production values change very subtly according to what best suits each song, from the Wallflowers-oriented roots rock saunter of "Hope Against Hope" to the shadowy urban swing of "Will You Remember Me" to the stark acoustic setting of "Western Wall." Though her voice is hardly the most impressive instrument in country music, Cash knows how to compensate by using an understated approach to more quietly highlight the essence of a song. Given the quality of what she gives herself to work with on Rules of Travel, it's a method that can't miss. ~ Robert L. Doerschuk, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Despite its title, 10 Song Demo isn't really a demo tape, but it is what the title suggests -- a stripped-down, direct collection of songs (for the record, there are 11 songs, not ten). Conceptually, it is a brilliant way to signal that Rosanne Cash has severed ties with Nashville, as well as begun her contract with Capitol Records. However, the album doesn't completely work. Essentially, 10 Song Demo is an official statement from Cash that she is no longer strictly a country singer, but an all-around singer/songwriter. Of course, she has always bent the rules of country music, so this isn't a big departure as far as songwriting goes. Musically, however, the spare, simple arrangements lack all of the country and pop production flourishes that marked her last two albums. Though it initially sounds fine, there isn't much variation to the music, and her melodies are frequently uncompelling. That can't be said of her lyrics -- they are as cutting, emotional, and affecting as they have been, and they are the main reason for listening to 10 Song Demo. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Like the dark, cathartic Interiors, The Wheel is an introspective, soul-searching set of confessional songs revolving around love and relationships. While many of the themes and emotions of Interiors are repeated on The Wheel, Roseanne Cash hasn't repeated herself, either lyrically or musically. Working from the same combination of folk and country that has fueled her songwriting throughout her career, she has created an album of subtle, melodic grace that helps convey the deep feelings of her lyrics. It's an immaculately-produced album, but that never detracts from the emotional core of Cash's music. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Rosanne Cash's catalog on Columbia is nothing if not formidable. Her pioneering meld of country, rock & roll (with an emphasis on "rock"), folk, and even blues, her topical concerns (which went deeper than most songwriters who came before her in taking on the tough topics of life), and her insistence on working outside the Nashville box scored her a number of hits and blazed the trail for many women who came later. King's Record Shop followed by two years her flirtation with the kind of pop coming out of England in droves, the radically underappreciated Rhythm & Romance. King's Record Shop -- produced by her then-husband and longtime collaborator Rodney Crowell -- is a granite-solid collection of covers and originals that delve deeply into the traditions that informed her life and created her as an artist, while revealing the trouble in her marriage to Crowell. The opening track, Eliza Gilkyson's "Rosie Strike Back," is a real feminist country anthem, and contains killer backing vocals from Patty Smyth (of Scandal) and Steve Winwood. Her read of John Hiatt's "The Way We Make a Broken Heart" is the kind of torch and tang ballad that will stand the test of time simply for its gender-bending take on relationships. Her collaboration with Hank DeVito, "If You Change Your Mind," is a jangly folk-rock ballad that expresses romantic longing in the face of a wayward lover; in its choruses one hears need as well as generosity. "The Real Me," a song that offers the vulnerability, truth, and flaws of a life in the process of transformation, is a preview of the type of material that would appear on the nakedly revealing Interiors. And it just goes deeper, from her rollicking and rebellious rocker "Somewhere Sometime" to the stellar cover of John Stewart's heart-wrenching "Runaway Train" to the straight-ahead country of her father Johnny's "Tennessee Flat Top Box." With its faux soul R&B chorus, Crowell's "I Don't Have to Crawl" is as full of want, cracked-heart honesty, and determination to keep standing as anything in country music. Ultimately, King's Record Shop is Rosanne Cash's classic, a work that transcends production and songwriting styles and the pop and country music of the time. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On Rosanne Cash's final recording for Columbia's Nashville division she pulled out all the stops. Already known for her unflinching honesty, she took it to its most poignant and searing extreme on Interiors. Cash produced the record herself and wrote or co-wrote all the material here. A country record it's not, but that hardly matters. This is a pop record with teeth and ache and broken hearts strewn all over the place. In fact, Interiors has the feel of a battlefield emptied of everything but its ghosts. The album is a collection of ten songs linked thematically by the chronicling of the tension, dysfunction, and ultimate dissolution of Cash's marriage to Rodney Crowell caused by dishonesty, infidelity, substance abuse, and physical distance; and she owns her side of the street with courage without laying blame. Carefully wrought with subtle instrumentation surrounding her fearless yet wavering vocals. Acoustic guitars, pianos, brushed drums, an occasional organ, a bass almost hidden under layers of ethereal grace -- these are the musical trappings that frame Cash's voice as she sets about a task so seemingly painful it's almost uncomfortable to listen to. It's as if the listener is granted a private audience with her heart and innermost thoughts. Everything is here: the disillusionment, the anger, the vain hope of reconciliation, and finally the acceptance and resignation that endings are a part of life and serve their purpose. While these ten tracks are virtually inseparable from one another, there are standouts such as "Dance With the Tiger" written with John Stewart, "Real Woman" written with Crowell, "Mirror Image," "I Want a Cure," and the harrowing closer, "Paralyzed," where Cash is accompanied only by a piano. Here she lets her current position be known, that seeing the end of this relationship leaves her in the clutches of being unable to move from the emotional space she is in. This album is full of a truth that most would rather not acknowledge, but it is morally and spiritually instructive in terms of its lyrical content, and musically it is her masterpiece. In fact, it's proof that art can redeem what cannot be in human terms. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Rhythm & Romance was recorded in 1984 and issued in 1984, almost three years after Somewhere in the Stars. Rhythm & Romance is significant in a number of ways -- besides its obvious quality as a piece of popular art. Foremost, it's the first recording that really showcases Rosanne Cash as a songwriter. Of the ten tracks here, she wrote six and co-wrote two others. This is the beginning of a new path in her career, which remains to this day, where she writes all of her own material. Secondly, it's the first record she made without producer/husband/songwriting partner Rodney Crowell (who was busy making his own breakthrough record, Diamonds & Dirt), David Molloy, and David Thoener. Thirdly, even after a nearly three-year absence and with a radical -- by country standards -- cover, the album topped the charts and charted two singles (in those days almost a unheard of). Lastly, she used musicians who were from the L.A. studio scene rather than Nash Vegas stalwarts, guitarist Waddy Wachtel and keyboard ace Benmont Tench from Tom Petty's Heartbreakers among them. Vince Gill also began to emerge from the shadows on this set as a solid singer and guitarist in his own right. But it's the material that makes any record. First there's Cash's sultry, sexual "Hold On" (which hit the number one spot) with its loping vocal and wanton ache, then there's "Second to No One," with its gorgeous melody, scathing autobiographical lyric, and shimmering acoustic guitars. The keyboard-driven "Halfway House," with its '50s rock melody filtered through '80s new wave riffing, where the guitars move into overdrive on the refrains, is a startling exercise in pushing the envelope. The stunning "Never Gonna Hurt," all hard rock guitars playing a Warren Zevon-esque "Werewolves of London"-type riff, is remarkable in how tough and snotty it is. A cover of John Fogerty's classic "Feelin' Blue" closes the album. It's Memphis funky and full of jagged angles where soul meets the blues meets rock & roll, in a context that is pure modern country. Cash's vocal is thoroughly convincing. Where the original is full of fear and spooky realization, Cash's is full of bravado and resignation to meet the rough stuff on the horizon head-on. Remarkable in every way, Rhythm & Romance stands the test of time as an expertly conceived and executed collection of songs that reveals a songwriter in full command of her talent and a singer at the peak of her powers -- for whom the restraints of Nashville had become to tenuous to contend with for much longer. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
'Somewhere in the Stars'
Release Date 1/1/1982
Tracks 10
Label Ariola
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Somewhere in the Stars followed by one year the wildly successful Seven Year Ache, Rosanne Cash's breakthrough record. Once again with husband Rodney Crowell in the producer's chair and acting as a full collaborator, Cash pushed the Nash Vegas envelope to the breaking point for the time. A listen to Shania Twain's Come on Over and Up! will point, in a winding manner, back to Somewhere in the Stars. Here are guitars ringing through with influences from Dire Straits to Graham Parker & the Rumour. Give a listen to Susanna Clark's "Oh, Yes I Can," and listen to Albert Lee's Mark Knopfler cop. Interestingly, Cash, while writing a great deal during this period, only recorded one of her own songs and co-wrote another with Crowell. The feel has British new wave, country, and L.A. rock blended into a seamless whole. Listen to the chug and tug of "Ain't No Money," written by Crowell, that opens the album. Linda Ronstadt in her prime could have cut this, but only Cash could bring the solid country gutbucket pout in her delivery. The horn charts on "It Hasn't Happened Yet," a John Hiatt composition, are deep rooted in the Memphis soul tradition of Stax. Given Cash's voice, though, the track comes off at odds with traditions that have little in common except for being heartfelt articulations of the unspeakable. But the longing in Cash's voice stands at odds with the normally reserved slickness of Nash Vegas productions. Tom T. Hall's "That's How I Got to Memphis" feels out of place here, with its slim production and relatively straight country feel, but Cash doesn't skimp on her vocal; it's believable if not overly inspired, and her read of the song is true to Hall's -- and the appearance of Johnny Cash on the last verse adds depth and mystery. The most angular track on the album is "I Look for Love," also by Hiatt, which seems like it was written after hearing Joe Jackson for the first time. With its odd lead line and funked-up bass, it feels like the track from outer space here, but in the grain of Cash's deeply passionate delivery it fits right in. The set closes with the title track. In its intimacy and shimmering surfaces, it points directly at records like Interiors and The Wheel that would come a decade later, though it's a love song, not a dark paean to something lost. As a follow-up to a smash album, Somewhere in the Stars was more than worthy and stands the test of time as a pillar in Cash's catalog. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Blame whomever you want to for Garth Brooks and Shania Twain, but the bottom line is that Rosanne Cash's masterpiece Seven Year Ache paved the way for all of those folks as well as for Mary Chapin Carpenter, Shawn Colvin, and then some. Proclaimed by Cash and her husband/producer/collaborator, Rodney Crowell, as "punktry," the album adds an entirely new twist on the Nashville sound. Perhaps it is because this is L.A. country and reflects the cocaine bliss sound of the era as well as Fleetwood Mac's Tusk does. Utilizing everything from synthesizers and rock arrangements to pop ballad-styled charts and plenty of attitude, Seven Year Ache yielded three number one singles and songs by rock musicians such as Tom Petty and singer/songwriters like Keith Sykes and Steve Forbert. Of the singles, Cash penned two; the title track, which is a sorrowful indictment of her husband's philandering ways, and the shattering ballad "Blue Moon With Heartache." The third, the smash "My Baby Thinks He's a Train," was written by Asleep at the Wheel's Leroy Preston. Musically, the band included many of the same players from the Right or Wrong sessions, with the emerging vocal talent of former Pure Prairie League member Vince Gill. Forbert's "What Kinda Girl" is almost rockabilly in its shuffling intensity and punk bravado. It dares the listener to define the protagonist just to shatter the preconception. There's also a nod to tradition here in Cash's beautifully updated read of the Merle Haggard/Red Simpson nugget "You Don't Have Very Far to Go," complete with whinnying pedal steels and a honky tonk backbeat. In "My Baby Thinks He's a Train," Cash and Crowell very consciously offer a new generation interpretation of dad Johnny's sound. This rocks harder yet is smooth as silk and full of that desolate want Johnny offered in his delivery. But unlike her father's, this isn't a forlorn yearning want, it's a pissed off anthemic want. For the ambulance chasers, this record with its songs of infidelity and broken promises may indeed be the first crack in a marriage and collaboration that ended a decade later. The tempo borrows the old Tennessee Three rhythm, but sped up into the stratosphere, with a shifting Western swing line near the refrain. Over 20 years after it was first issued, Seven Year Ache sounds as fresh and revolutionary as it did when it was issued. Any album that stands that test of time in a field like country deserves to be regarded as a classic. Yes, this is the one that changed everything. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On her debut American release (she'd done a record in Germany that she now disowns), Rosanne Cash may not have shaken the money tree or the Billboard charts, but she and husband/producer/collaborator Rodney Crowell began to change the face of contemporary country music forever. Recorded in L.A. and not Nash Vegas, Right or Wrong still utilized talent synonymous with Music City, but the sound that took country and merged it with the rock and pop styles of the day was a winning formula. Crowell and Cash made the song selections while Rodney called in Emmylou Harris's band (of which he was an alumnus) and some up and comers and created a sonic palette that accented the brave new world of stripped-down mixes and songs that came from the left field of country or pop (the European version of the album featured a Lennon/McCartney tune). Here are nods to the past and heritage in her father's "Big River," a couple of outlaw tunes from Keith Sykes (the title track and "Take Me, Take Me"), as well as the stunning ballad "Couldn't Do Nothing Right" by Karen Brooks and Gary P. Nunn. Jerry Jeff Walker recorded a hell of a version in the early '70s, but the crooning sorrow and ache in the grain of Cash's voice and the faux Caribbean rhythm behind a pedal steel-driven melody line make it an entirely different song. Speaking of voice, Cash is most comfortable singing her own searing ballads such as "This Has Happened Before," Crowell's "No Memories Hanging' Round," "Seeing's Believing," and "Anybody's Darlin." But Crowell's "Baby, Start Turnin' Em Down" is perhaps the strongest track on the album as it combines a restless country shuffle, a rocker's minor key blues riff, and a deliberate nod to Marvin Gaye's "Heard It Through the Grapevine" and Motown. Right or Wrong only got to number 42 on the Billboard chart, but it did make radio take notice that something new was about to happen, and on Seven Year Ache, the follow-up to this fine album, the floodgates opened. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
