Trisha Yearwood left MCA Nashville on a high note in 2005 with Jasper County. It was her first record in five years, and one of her best. That said, it was merely a taste of what was to come when she spread her wings and went off on her own. Two years later the bounty of that decision comes to the listener on Heaven, Heartache and the Power of Love. Produced by Garth Fundis, who worked on Yearwood's early records and Jasper County, the album appears on the independent (but well-distributed and promoted) Big Machine Records, and it is obvious that this is the album Yearwood's wanted to make her entire career. Fundis understands Yearwood's strengths as a vocalist and her creative ambition so completely he left off the studio gimmicks and compression trickery which plague so much of what comes out of Music City. Musical instruments like electric guitars and basses sound like what they are, not simulated '70s arena rock constructs. Acoustic guitars, fiddles, and mandolins ring natural and true, they don't need reverb and it's OK to hear the strings squeak because they are being played. The 13 songs chosen for this date are firmly in the country vein and were written by some of the best in the business, including Matraca Berg, Jim Collins, Gary Harrison, Billy Joe Walker, Karyn Rochelle and Tommy Lee James, Clayton Mills and Tia Sillers (who penned the title track and first single), Leslie Satcher, and others. The rollicking bluesy rockabilly that is the title cut rocks right out of the gate. There's a powerful B-3 worthy of Booker T. Jones pumping in the background, a pair of killer acoustic strings, a bluegrass mandolin, and a funky bassline throbbing under the drums, which are for a change nice and loud -- Nashville seems to hate the sound of real drums these days and squashes them in their mixes; Fundis lets them rip, along with a roaring electric guitar. Yearwood just goes for it, digging into the grain of the lyric and getting right to her blues growl, which comes out live a lot but seldom on her records. They should shop this track to the Top 40 because it smokes. She changes up quickly with a non-stereotypical ballad/love song by Karyn Rochelle and Tommy Lee James called "This Is Me You're Talking To." The separation from the preceding track is clean; it feels natural. It's a song about honesty, longing, and the kind of acceptance that comes along when a former lover has moved on and you haven't. Strings gently emerge from the background as a pedal steel whinnies under Yearwood's lines, the drums punctuate the bassline (not the reverse), and as the electric guitars rise and the tension and drama in the tune come to a cresting wave, the strings do, too. It's devastatingly beautiful and the emotion coming from Yearwood's voice is downright real. She is not singing the song; she is the song. When the mirror image of this tune follows in Berg's and Collins' "They Call It Falling for a Reason," it dawns on the listener that this record is special, rooted deeply in the country tradition but not shying away from the contemporary rocking sound of it, either. This is another cooker, and it's so full of a lust for life, what with those guitars playing off one another and Yearwood pushing herself in a way she never has. The meld and mix Fundis gets out of the instruments all coming together to support that amazing voice is natural and warm, yet it has an edge that feels new, fresh, and above all, real. In this partnership, Yearwood's voice is at the service of great songs (she has always done this as a vocalist) but it seems only Fundis understands that the production should serve the song, not the other way around (which is the norm). The stately country of "Nothin' 'Bout Memphis," (written by James with Jessi Alexander), is punctuated with a true soul horn section and a gospel-style chorus. It doesn't hurt that Jim Horn arranged the tasty horns, and that Dan Dugmore and Reese Wynans are all over this either. The truth of the matter is that if Yearwood wanted to, she could really sing soul and R&B. It's all here. Balance is the key to this set. Its pace and timing, its textures, which are varied yet never stray far from the strength and power in that voice, Yearwood stretches herself, she doesn't need anybody to push her, and the way solid country ballads with strings are juxtaposed against honky tonkers, rockers, and sweet and tender love songs either happy or sad is a thing of small wonder. Check "Help Me," with its graceful piano laced with strings, Dugmore's steel, and some tasteful drumstick percussion and cymbal work, all of which allow this singer to dig so far inside a song that what pours out is pure emotion. There's no let-up in the breezy "Not a Bad Thing," which strolls casually out of the box to deliver a powerful lyric and picks up its own curt tempo. Rochelle's burning "Nothin' About You Is Good for Me" is one of the most rollicking honky tonk rockers full of blues grit and grease with a wonderfully haughty backing vocal by the songwriter. It rocks as hard as the opener, but it's harder country. The hard-driving blues feel continues in "Drown Me" as the acoustic guitars pump the vocal up, but when the band enters it's a stone-cold country rocker -- with just enough blues (and not Southern rock style, but real rockabilly blues) -- to deepen it and loosen it up and allow the listener the room to just dig in and holler in assent. And then there's "Sing You Back to Me" that closes this amazing set. With true class, elegance, and grace, Yearwood and Fundis add yet another element to this mix, a simple ballad written by Tony Arata and Gene Nelson that marries the glory of the American standard to the country ballad. What makes it so beautiful is Yearwood's vocal understating of this lithe melody, allowing it to sing itself to her; she articulates the airy yet weighty sadness in the tune by allowing herself the room to just let it come as poetry. The bottom line is this: Heaven, Heartache and the Power of Love is, without a shadow of a doubt, the finest, most consistent and deeply moving (not to mention fun) record she has ever cut. It carries the mark of a bona fide artist who understands herself well enough to know that a great song is not only communicable but is communication itself to the listener. She has not only a sympathetic producer but a true co-collaborator in Fundis who gets the best performance from the studio players involved without making them sound like machines. This time out, Yearwood is in a class by herself, and if country radio/video/television get involved at all, she'll hit it out of the park. It's better than good, it's beyond expectation -- and it was high after Jasper County -- it's the best example of what a popular record -- not just a country one -- should aspire to be, period. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Trisha Yearwood took an unprecedented four years between her eighth album, 2001's Inside Out, and its 2005 follow-up, Jasper County. There was a variety of reasons for the extended hiatus -- it was one part creative, one part personal, as Yearwood weathered the storm of going public with her relationship with Garth Brooks (as of the release of Jasper County, the couple was engaged to be married) -- but the long wait proved worthwhile since Jasper County is one of her very best records, an album that stretches further musically than most of her albums while being more cohesive than most of her records as well. Reuniting with longtime producer Garth Fundis, with whom she's done most of her best work (he did not helm Inside Out), Yearwood's picked a set of 11 songs that aren't just uniformly strong, but are quite diverse. While there's a strong bluesy undercurrent here, highlighted by the slow-churning opener "Who Invented the Wheel" and the Bobbie Gentry-styled Southern country-soul of "Sweet Love," this is firmly a country album, with few concessions to pop crossover. The tracks that do have a lush, slick surface do tend to be the big ballads, such as "Standing out in a Crowd," but those do tend to be grounded with acoustic guitars and Yearwood's impassioned delivery. Plus, even those sweeping slow tunes are offset by such excellent ballads as the heartbroken "Trying to Love You" and the epic "Georgia Rain," which are pure country and lend the overall album a sweet, reflective quality. Even if the album does tend toward relaxed, meditative tunes, Jasper County works because instead of maintaining that introspective vibe throughout the album, Yearwood and Fundis bring in not just those bluesy, soulful songs for balance, but they find two rip-roaring Al Anderson songs -- the white-hot "Pistol" and the old-fashioned honky tonk anthem "It's Alright" -- to give this more country grit than has been heard on any Yearwood album in a long time. At a mere 38 minutes, the album moves along briskly, not just because of the short running time, but because the album is paced well, moving gracefully between ballads, blues like "River of You," and rollicking up-tempo tunes. The end result is an album that's not just one of Yearwood's most entertaining albums, but one of her richest records, in both musical and emotional terms as well. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Trisha Yearwood's full of a whole lotta love. Five of the album's 12 tracks have "love" in the title, and the seven others that don't are about love and relationships. But whatever Yearwood's singing about, she still manages to dazzle listeners even ten years and ten albums into her career. She's an artist who blossoms with every album and just keeps getting better. She's even managed to arrange a superior list of musical collaborators, including Don Henley (back for more after "Walkaway Joe") on the rhythmic title track; Roseanne Cash harmonizing on the classic song she originally composed, "Seven Year Ache"; and even Vince Gill lending his vocal talents to the blazing "I Don't Paint Myself Into Corners." With praiseworthy songs too numerous to mention, Inside Out is bound to inspire fans and fellow artists alike. Simply put, Trisha Yearwood is timeless. ~ Maria Konicki Dinoia, All Music Guide
Once an artist like Trisha Yearwood enters her second decade of recording, it's easy to take her for granted. Why? Well, consistency doesn't make for quite as dramatic a story as dramatic swings between brilliance and failure. That may be unfair, but that's the way it is. Yearwood has never swung between such extremes. She has released some exceptional albums, plus a couple of sub-par efforts, but for the most part, she has remained an artist that is reliable -- you pay your money, and you know you'll get something satisfactory. Real Live Woman is one of those records; it may not rock your world, but it will hardly disappoint. A little more mature and straight-ahead than even her latter-day efforts, Real Live Woman is a measured, deliberate record in the best possible sense. The tempo never gets too heated, but the songs never drift into laziness, either. The tunes are always melodic and always well-chosen. They don't just play to Yearwood's strengths, but they're solid songs in their own right, whether it's a new Matraca Berg and Al Anderson song ("I'm Still Alive"), an overlooked Springsteen tune ("Sad Eyes") or a Linda Ronstadt chestnut ("Try Me Again"). Yes, there are a couple of moments where the momentum drags ever so slightly, but as soon as they occur, the album perks back up with the next song. Real Live Woman isn't significantly better or worse than the average Trisha Yearwood album, but that's not a bad thing, since few people do this mainstream country -- meaning, by late-'90s/early-'00s standards, country music that still sounds country but is also melodic enough for pop -- quite as well as this. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Trisha Yearwood is a pop diva who knows how to play her instrument: her voice. Perhaps one of the most gifted contemporary pop vocalists, Yearwood continues to explore the vast expanses of her talent. Displaying only traces of her early work as a country music artist, she sings with yearning on songs like "Powerful Thing." Buddy Miller's backing vocals on "Bring Me All Your Lovin'" are a highlight of this project. Yearwood's brilliance is adequately displayed on "I Don't Want to Be the One" and "I'll Still Love You More" (the latter a Diane Warren composition). She is at her best when she inhabits the world of emotional ballads and snappy, up-tempo tunes about the emotional life of modern women. While she is no country singer by any stretch of the imagination, she is still an important element in pop music. ~ Jana Pendragon, All Music Guide
Trisha Yearwood firmly enters middle-age with Everybody Knows, a collection of ballads and country-pop. Even when she kicks the tempo into high-gear, Yearwood and her band lay back, easing the beat along instead of pushing it. Similarly, the country-pop is engaging and relaxed, gently winning you over. But the heart of the album lies in her ballads, which are appropriately theatrical and grandiose -- it's big music with big melodies. The quality of the songs are a little uneven, but Yearwood continues to improve as a singer, which means she brings conviction even to the lackluster material on Everybody Knows. ~ Thom Owens, All Music Guide
Sweetest Gift is Trisha Yearwood's addition to the Christmas album market. Her countrified renditions of these Christmas classics remain pretty faithful to the original songs despite the genre she steers it towards. Fans of country would probably enjoy this album, as Yearwood has a beautiful voice that suites these songs just fine. ~ Bradley Torreano, All Music Guide
1995's The Song Remembers When is another chapter in the ongoing collaboration between Trisha Yearwood and producer Garth Fundis. Where 1993's Hearts in Armor was a cathartic masterpiece that broke Yearwood worldwide, this record is straighter down the contemporary country lane. As usual, the material is top-notch no matter where the pair get it from. Whether the tunes come from stalwarts like Kostas, Rodney Crowell, and Willie Nelson, or relative unknowns like the phenomenal Kimmie Rhodes, this ten-song set delivers the same drama and tension with glorious, transcendent singing from Yearwood. The title-cut opener is a reverie of innocent love gone bad, recalled at a retail store counter while receiving change. Mid-tempo ballads are a Yearwood strength, and she delivers tough and true. Next, "Better Your Heart Than Mine," written by almost-country-chanteuse Lisa Angelle and pop washout Andrew Gold, is a beautiful twining of Bonnie Raitt-styled R&B, roots rock, and neo-traditionalist country with some killer guitar playing by the great Steuart Smith. Rodney Crowell backs Yearwood on his "I Don't Fall in Love So Easy"; it's one of those beautiful country songs that almost isn't. Crowell has always been able to walk the pop-ountry borderline, and in Yearwood's voice he has found the perfect vocalist to execute his vision. She sings the hell out of a slick little downtempo rocker by making it sound like it's the easiest song in the world to deliver honestly. Nelson not only contributes a tune here, but he guests both in duet and backing vocalist capacities on his own "One in a Row" and Rhodes' "Hard Promises to Keep." His presence adds real depth and dimension here because his thin, reedy voice stands in such sharp contrast to Yearwood's full-throated one. "Here Comes Temptation" by Kostas is one of those groovy little pop numbers that touches on the kind of '60s pop that came from Doc Pomus and Phil Spector crossed through the heart by a contemporary Nash Vegas feel; its glitzy surface covered by a sheen of sweet soul even if it is accompanied by a pedal steel. The disc closes with Matraca Berg's "Lying to the Moon." Accompanied only by her band, Yearwood takes a pop song and turns it into a country song with the ripped-up heart that comes in the grain of her voice. It's poetry, this combination of singer and song. She couldn't sing it any better if she'd written it; the accents create tension and drama and images from every betrayed-lover's movie from the '40s on, washing through the mix. Only a real singer can deliver the image from the heart of the song. Yearwood here is the heart of the song itself. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
The leap Trisha Yearwood made as an artist between her debut in 1991 and Hearts in Armor in 1993 is remarkable. It remains one of her highest achievements. In addition, this one was wrought from conflict; it was released just after divorce and the record feels like an exorcism. As with her debut, producer Garth Fundis and Yearwood selected songs from the cream of Nashville's hit producers; "Wrong Side of Memphis," a tough, near spitting rocker tempered by honky tonk fiddles was written by Matraca Berg and Gary Harrison, opened the disc and may have thrown fans of her ballad style. But fears would have been unfounded as "Harrison's Nearest Distant Shore" was all ballad and then some. There's the R&B-flavored "You Say You Will," by Beth Neilsen Chapman, that's sassy and tough, full of funky piano and a killer acoustic guitar solo by Billy Walker Jr. and a killer backing vocal by Raul Malo (before anyone knew who the Mavericks were). Chapman also contributes a stunning ballad to this set, "Down on My Knees," that is wrenching in its pure intent. "Walkaway Joe" features a harmony vocal by Don Henley and Dobro ace Jerry Douglass. Yearwood's telling the story she tells best, working-class love gone bad. But the finest moment on Hearts in Armor is Yearwood's cover of Emmylou Harris' "Woman Walk the Line," with Harris singing backup with Stuart Duncan on fiddle and Sam Bush on mandolin along with Yearwood's band; this is the ultimate testament about being woman cheated on who goes out to have a drink to hear some music and walk the line between marriage and dissolution. It's searing in its heartbreak and full of the tension that comes with the territory of loving someone who needs by his very nature to cheat. It's devastating, helped in part by Harris' unobtrusive but emotionally loaded backing vocal to Yearwood's open-throated wail. Henley also guests on the closer, which is the title track. If there is any speculation about whether Yearwood was airing her dirty laundry on the album, it becomes obvious in this song, that this is about her dealing with her own emotions, her own issues. Blame is useless in this ballad, there's nothing left but heartbreak and emptiness and the challenge of rebuilding a life haunted by the ghosts of another. Hearts in Armor is stunning; it's one of the best heartbreak records country music delivered in the '80s and '90s. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide