[rating=3.00]
Despite the fact that their last album was released in 2004, Alison Krauss and Union Station haven’t altered their formula. Paper Airplane is more of the same stuff they’ve been doling out for 25 years. The album is a welcome 45 minutes of the band’s painstakingly constructed yet heartfelt acoustic balladry spiked with energetic traditional songs, with the source material coming from a wide variety of songwriters. Krauss’ heavenly voice has always been a favored instrument of many Nashville producers and writers, and they must line up for her, as she doesn’t have a single writing credit on Paper Airplane. That work is done for she and fellow vocalist Dan Tyminski via covers from greats like Jackson Browne (“My Opening Farewell”), Tim O’Brien (“On The Outside Looking In”), and Richard Thompson (“Dimming of the Day”), along with well-known writers like Viktor Krauss, Angel Snow, and Aoife O’Donovan. Only one track, Barry Bales’ affable “Miles to Go,” has an AKUS member listed as writer, and dobro master Jerry Douglas is relegated to a supporting role as emphasis is placed on vocals. Tyminski, owner of one of the world’s great bluegrass voices, is given three of the eleven tracks upon which to wail, and there are no “fiddle tunes” to be found.
Though AKUS put their indelible stamp on every tune they pick, from the delicate bluegrass of “Lay My Burden Down” to the vitriolic strains of Tim O’Brien’s “On The Outside Looking In,” the album suffers a bit from a lack of consistency. The flow is often jarring as Krauss, who tends toward the heaving and sappy, and Tyminski, who sounds like the ultimate hillside howler, are alternately featured. On “Paper Airplane,” Krauss weaves her calming croon and reasonable lyrics between the band’s incredibly crisp acoustic menagerie of mandolin, guitar, bass, and dobro. It stands in stark contrast to the next track, a banjo-driven cover of Peter Rowan’s “Dust Bowl Children” sung by Tyminski with a goodly amount of righteous twang. Then there’s the forlorn and ponderous “Sinking Stone,” one of the album’s few forgettable tracks, which butts up against the arresting narrative of Sidney Cox’s “Bonita and Bill Butler.” In other words, it’s eclectic business as usual for the restless quintet. Paper Airplane, like the rest of Alison Krauss and Union Station’s albums, is meant to please their diverse musical needs and equally diverse fan base. Nothing on this album is going to satiate their fans’ desire for the old stuff, but even after seven years away from the studio, the band’s reputation as country music’s most unpredictable jukebox is intact.
