"Rosanne Cash has more family ties to the country world than anyone, but she has turned her back on Nashville for a new career as a New York pop singer. Or so she thinks. Her first non-Nashville album, 10 Song Demo, may have a low twang quotient, but it pursues the main concerns of traditional country music: troubled marriages and midlife crises.
The title, 10 Song Demo, is misleading on two counts: It actually contains 11 songs, and it's not really a demo. Although almost every track begins solely with Cash's voice and acoustic guitar, and is only gradually filled in with tasteful coloring by electric guitar, bass and keyboards, the arrangements don't sound unfinished as much as they sound stripped to their essence. And because these songs are about getting past distractions to confront the bedrock issues in ending one marriage, starting another and turning 40, the arrangements are just right. Cash is an inspired vocal interpreter, and her husky alto doesn't need much instrumental support to get every mixed emotion out of a line like "I'll kiss you till we turn to stone/I'll fight you till we're blind," from "Bells and Roses."
The singer's verbal meditations are boiled down to shorter lines and plainer language on 10 Song Demo. Instead of sounding like sprawling, graduate-school poetry, Cash's new lyrics have the tight meter and homespun wisdom of old Appalachian ballads. When she wants to complain about a man who is scared of making a commitment on "If I Were a Man," she sings, "If I were a man, I'd be so sweet/I'd give me everything I need."
Maybe Loretta Lynn wouldn't feel comfortable with the hushed, meditative arrangements on 10 Song Demo, but she would certainly recognize the subject matter. And she would no doubt admire the skill with which Rosanne Cash gets every last emotion onto tape." (Rolling Stone)

I think it's safe to say that there are not too many people out there quite like Lyle Lovett. One of the most creative singer-songwriters on the scene, he's a Texan through and through, embracing country music, but is about as musically eclectic an artist as you will find. He's an engaging singer with a distinctive voice and a gifted lyricist, but he nevertheless writes some songs that can only be described as having downright weird words. After being a confirmed bachelor well into his 30s, Lovett suddenly married movie star Julia Roberts. After being pretty much the domain of Public Radio, he found himself plastered on the front pages of the supermarket tabloids and trash TV shows. Lovett also acted in a few films himself.

After creating a series of outstanding albums with an often jazzy group he called his Large Band, in October 1994, Lovett released I Love Everybody, a collection of older songs he had lying around since as long ago as the 1970s, performed with scaled back arrangements. They included a few pieces with some of the most eccentric lyrics of his career. That album was released during his happy marriage to Ms. Roberts, and many of Lovett's fans were wondering if there was anything autobiographical to be heard the record. But Lovett stressed that all the songs pre-dated his engagement and marriage.

Well, Lovett and Roberts have separated, and thus the tabloids have lost interested in the songwriter. Now he is out a collection of new songs called The Road to Ensenada, which shows him up to his old tricks again -- creating songs that make you wonder what goes through his mind, -- if you take the time to listen carefully to the lyrics. Also as usual, musically, the album is very tastefully done, running from twangy country to jazzy, with some introspective folkie-type songs in there as well.

Texas has a rich tradition of singer-songwriters, going back to people like Jerry Jeff Walker, Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clarke and scores of fine current-day artists. Lovett grew up on their music listening them in folk clubs in college as he studied journalism. He made an interesting admission in an interview a couple of years ago -- that while he was familiar with many of Bob Dylan's songs, he had never actually listened to an entire Dylan album straight through. I think that serves to illuminate Lovett's penchant for creating his own world, paying little attention to styles and trends around him.

His record-company described The Road to Ensenada, Lovett's sixth album, as being the his most "radio-friendly to date." Radio-friendly, of course, is a euphemism for lowering standards enough to be played on commercial radio. Lovett has had a couple of songs that found their way onto commercial country radio, but for the most part Public Radio has been the territory of Lovett's music. The new album does have perhaps two tracks that one could imagine being played on the commercial airwaves -- one more or less straight country tune, such as he has done in the past, and a song likely to find a place on the contemporary country stations. Both have lyrics that are mostly harmless, and tunes you can go around humming. But those concessions having been made, Lovett is up to his usual tricks, with odd characters, unsuccessful attempts at starting love affairs, some odes to things Texan, and one song that could be interpreted as being about his relationship to Roberts. The arrangements range from Nashville-style with a weeping steel guitar, to bossa nova, to rollicking Western Swing, to introspective folkie-style. But except for horns on the Western Swing song, I miss the presence of Lovett's Large Band. This time, he enlists some well-known musical figures to join him in background vocals, including Jackson Browne, Shawn Colvin, and another eccentric in his own right Randy Newman.

The Road to Ensenada has a lot in common with I Love Everybody, with the same co-producer with Lovett, Billy Williams, recorded in the same Los Angeles studio with the same drummer, Russ Kunkel, and pianist, Matt Rollings, who has been on most of Lovett's albums. Rollings, unfortunately, is not featured quite as often this time. The bassist is Leland Sklar, who together with Kunkel were a staple of Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt and James Taylor albums during the 1970s. The backing musician who really distinguishes himself this time around is violinist Stuart Duncan, a figure from the bluegrass and New Acoustic scene.

Lyle Lovett has come up with another mostly brilliant album in The Road to Ensenada. The lyrics may not be quite as weird as on his last album I Love Everybody, or the arrangements as eclectic or jazzy as on Joshua Judges Ruth, which I still consider the high point of his career. But Lyle Lovett is one of a kind, and the combination of his highly original songwriting style, his appealing vocals, with his easy-going and engaging musical personality makes him one of the most significant creative figures on the singer-songwriter and country music scenes. There are few people who can slip between upbeat Western Swing and moody songs of regret, between twangy cry-in-your-beer country and bossa nova, between elaborate story-songs like the title track, and novelty lyrics like Don't Touch My Hat with Lovett's unpretentious ease.

From a sonic standpoint, Lovett again keeps his standards very high. Engineer Nathaniel Kunkel, who also mixed I Love Everybody, actually adds a little subtle reverb to Lovett's vocal, after several albums with Lovett's voice almost completely without any electronic effects. That seems another element in this album's attempt to reach wider audiences. But the sound is still first-rate, with great clarity and decent dynamic range.

Many may have gotten to know Lyle Lovett as Julia Roberts' funny-looking ex-husband, but for over a decade his records have been winning fans among a rather diverse audience from country music aficionados to connoisseurs of literate singer-songwriters. This new album is likely increase his audience. While some of his long-time fans might consider parts of The Road to Ensenada a bit of a commercial compromise, I think very few will be disappointed in the overall result.

(George Graham, broadcast on WVIA-FM 7/3/96)

Für eine Band, die CODEINE seit nunmehr drei Alben den Rang in Sachen tongewordener Langsamkeit und Tristesse abzulaufen scheint, beweist das Trio aus Duluth/Minnesota eine merkwürdige, ja fast skurrile Art von Humor, welcher man in dieser Kombination doch eher selten begegnet. Zeilen wie "Lent you my favourite dictionary/ came back with ripped out pages - you can't stop violence" sind da keine Seltenheit, und man fragt sich, ob die drei derart gepflegten Sarkasmus immer auf Valium zelebrieren, wo sie zur Feier des Tages doch bereits JOY DIVISIONs "Transmission" tempomäßig völlig zum Erliegen brachten und dem Ganzen einen beinahe surrealen Anstrich verpaßten. Überhaupt scheint es LOWs erklärtes Ziel zu sein, die Grenzen des Machbaren in diesem Bereich auf jeder Veröffentlichung neu ausloten zu wollen, und so verwundert es kaum, daß "The Curtain Hits ..." klingt wie die Zeitlupen-Version der bereits äußerst schwermütigen, aber nicht minder beeindruckenden Vorgänger-Alben "I Could Live In Hope" und "Long Division" und daß mit "The Plan" ein Stück enthalten ist, welches Eure Tränensäcke unweigerlich auf Horst Tappert-Format anschwillen lassen dürfte und selbst mit "schrecklich schön" nur höchst unzureichend beschrieben werden kann ... Für all die Gelegenheits-Depressiven unter Euch und diejenigen, die einem verregneten Sonntag-Nachmittag durchaus etwas Positives abgewinnen können, führt absolut kein Weg an dieser Platte vorbei ...!

Ralf Wetzel (www.intro.de)

The Curtain Hits the Cast was Low's first "major" album, taking the indie buzz over their early work to a much larger audience. The band didn't lose anything in the process -- the album shows them still firmly entrenched in the epically slow, lazy dirges that got them started. The only noticeable changes come in the form of more elaborate production, and a shift in the ratio of dark, creepy dirges to pretty, comforting ones (the latter winning out, as evidenced by the album's single, the beautiful "Over the Ocean"). Low is one of those rare bands who have created such a distinct musical world for themselves that even major changes can't distract them from it -- just like every Cocteau Twins album is unmistakably theirs, and always good, listening to any Low recording involves revisiting a wonderful sound that can't be found anywhere else. The Curtain Hits the Cast is more accessible than much of the band's earlier work, but, since it's a Low album, it isn't really that much different -- the album is probably the best introduction to Low's work.

(by Nitsuh Abebe, All Music Guide)