Barnes & Noble
Shelby Lynne is hard to pin down. She began in 1989 as a country artist, dabbled in western swing on 1993's Temptation, then resurfaced in 2000 with the soulful, string-laden I Am Shelby Lynne, for which she won a Best New Artist Grammy. After collaborating with Glen Ballard on 2001's Love, Shelby, a set of glossy, pop productions that were miles from her country beginnings, she's off in a different direction for the aptly titled Identity Crisis. It's a rootsy, southern-flavored collection of intimate, spacious songs, recorded with a stripped-down band of bass, percussion, and keyboards (from Little Feat's great Bill Payne) supporting Lynne's guitar and husky, sultry vocals. With the exception of the Patsy Cline/Owen Bradley homage "Lonesome" -- which features a big, orchestral production -- Identity Crisis has the sparse, spontaneous feel of home demos; it's a captivating listen. From the gospel workout "10 Rocks" to the searing blues of "Evil Man" to the jazzy swing of "Baby," Lynne touches on a variety of traditional styles without ever sounding overtly retro. Whether on the introspective ballads "I Don't Think So" and "If I Were Smart" or on the driving "Gonna Be Better," her expressive, quietly powerful vocals make Identity Crisis Shelby Lynne's most personal album. There's no crisis here. Steve Klinge
All Music Guide
In giving Shelby Lynne's Identity Crisis even a cursory listen one has to ask the question as to whether the titles of Love, Shelby and this one were reversed by accident. While Love, Shelby, produced by Glen Ballard, was a schizoid mess of R&B, rock, and whatever, Identity Crisis is a deeply focused yet wildly adventurous look at American roots and popular musics as processed by Lynne, who is in top songwriting, vocal, and production shape here. Acting as her own producer with help from mixing engineer Bruce Robb, Lynne has penned 12 tough songs that showcase her true gift for lyricism and melody and display the real reach of her vocal prowess on a series of rootsy, souled-out -- sometimes psychedelic -- rockers and pop tunes. The sheer rock & roll abandon of "Gotta Get Better" could have been recorded by Beck, whereas the shimmering, down-tempo folkiness of "I Don't Think So," with gorgeous Fender Rhodes touches by Billy Payne of Little Feat, is harrowing in its heartbroken candor and seductive with its sultry melody that crosses Dusty Springfield with Scott Walker. Elsewhere, such as on the loopy, funky B-3-drenched "I'm Alive," Sheryl Crow's dark side meets the razor-sharp lyric sensibilities of John Mellencamp's Scarecrow-era material. But then, on "Lonesome," the classic countrypolitan-style honky tonk of Owen Bradley with Patsy Cline, or Chet Atkins with Connie Smith comes flowing through like honey in a sieve. The easy bluesy swing -- à la Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith -- on "Buttons and Beaus" is a something Bonnie Raitt might have recorded in the early '70s, if she had a razor's-edge delivery and skewed sense of humor. The tough, acoustic Chicago blues colored by a B-3 makes a standout of "Evil Man." The Tin Pan Alley-meets-Donovan touch on "One With the Sun" makes it the perfect closer, a loopy love song with clever lyrics, pastoral, romantic strings, and a melody that comes from timeless American pop music. Suffice to say, that while Lynne's career has produced many fine recordings -- I Am Shelby Lynne from 2000 being a recent case in point -- Identity Crisis is easily the most consistent record she had released since Tough All Over in 1990, and is without a doubt the most moving, ambitious, and elegant album of her career thus far. She sets a new standard for singers and songwriters with this collection, making it a candidate for any serious Top Ten of 2003. There is no identity crisis here, just the indelible mark of a mature, intense, always engaging artist. Thom Jurek
Rolling Stone
Shelby Lynne, like k.d. lang and Willie Nelson before her, is making a career out of freeing country from its own constrictions. Pat Blashill
Entertainment Weekly
Lynne is so in her element... that you have to wonder if the title's a deliberate misnomer. (A-) Chris Willman