Wildflower (CD)

Originally, {$Sheryl Crow} planned to have her follow-up to 2002's Top Ten hit {^C'mon, C'mon} be two simultaneously released albums, announcing their autumn release at the beginning of 2005, but by the time the fall rolled around, the project had been scaled back to a single album: Wildflower. If {^C'mon, C'mon} was a cheerful, bright record ideal for sunny summer days, Wildflower is its opposite, a warm, introspective record that's tailored for the fall. It's not dissimilar to 1998's {^The Globe Sessions}, which felt like a somber hangover to the wonderfully weird party of her eponymous 1996 second album, but where {^The Globe Sessions} had a weary, heartbroken feel, there's a comfortable, lived-in atmosphere and sense of genuine affection on Wildflower. Celebrity press and pre-release hype attributed this love-mad vibe to {$Crow}'s romance with cyclist {$Lance Armstrong} -- the couple announced their engagement the same month Wildflower was released -- and there surely must be some sort of correlation between {$Crow}'s personal life and work, but anybody looking for an album explicitly about her relationship with {$Armstrong} (the way that, say, {$Eric Benet}'s {^Hurricane} is all about his divorce from {$Halle Berry}) will be disappointed. There are certainly plenty of songs about love here, but {$Crow}'s songs are not about specific events (unless they're neo-protest songs like the lively {&"Live It Up"}). They're open-ended, so it's easy to hear the record and never think about {$Armstrong}. As a matter of fact, the subjects of the songs matter less than the feel of the album. It's easy to spin Wildflower a couple of times before the songs start to sink in -- unlike her other records, there's nothing here that immediately grabs your attention, they're all growers -- but the mood of the record is immediately appealing. That sustained warm, burnished, relaxed feel -- at once rootsy and upscale, modest and classy -- is reason enough to return to Wildflower, All Music Guide