Teased upon its release as
Sheryl Crow's final album -- a promise that seems perhaps a tad premature for an artist who was just 57 upon the record's release --
Threads is intended as a summation of her musical worldview. Specifically, it's designed to draw connections between
Crow, her idols, and the generations who followed her, all through a variety of covers, collaborations, and duets. The cast of characters is formidable, encompassing titans and hipsters along with a host of musicians who are happy to cruise along in the middle of the road.
Crow often found herself in that cozy MOR, an adult contemporary-adjacent positioning that tended to undersell her sense of adventure and craft.
Threads touches upon both aspects, albeit to different degrees. The adventure crashes to the forefront with the booming presence of
Chuck D on "Story of Everything," and simmers on her collaborations with
St. Vincent ("Wouldn't Want to Be Like You") and
Lucius ("Don't"), two artists who are associated with an indie world where
Crow never quite belonged. As alluring as the dreamy girl group sway of "Don't" is,
Crow seems more at home when she's standing toe-to-toe with Nashville's new generation --
Maren Morris and
Jason Isbell are both here, with
Chris Stapleton bridging the gap between country-pop and Americana -- or sharing space with legends who'd amassed a vast catalog long before
Tuesday Night Music Club appeared in 1993. Some of this can veer toward the fusty -- it's hard to call a duet with
Joe Walsh, where they claim it's "Still the Good Old Days," anything but that -- it's saved by good cheer and her sharp sense of craft. These two qualities give "Prove You Wrong," sung with
Morris and
Stevie Nicks and co-written with
Al Anderson, a clean punch, makes the swampy
Stapleton collaboration "Tell Me When It's Over" feel like an unearthed gem from
The Globe Sessions, and gives the
Willie Nelson duet "Lonely Alone" a sense of bruised beauty. Many of the covers also benefit from the slick professional chops of
Crow and her friends;
Brandi Carlile plays with her phrasing on a reading of
George Harrison's "Beware of Darkness," while
Jason Isbell helps kick
Bob Dylan's "Everything Is Broken" into a boogie. Such little grace notes are abundant on
Threads but, then again, there's an abundance of everything on
Threads. Running a leisurely 75 minutes,
Threads doesn't seem sequenced so much as unedited; it's as if instead of finishing the album, she decided to dump every track out into the marketplace. This makes for a somewhat somnolent record, but it's better to think of it as not a complete meal but rather a buffet that contains something to please every palette. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine