Barnes & Noble
Emmylou Harris entertains an all-star lineup of female guests on Stumble into Grace, but in the end it's the dazzling host you remember. Produced by Malcolm Burn, who was behind the board for the Grammy-winning Red Dirt Girl, Stumble showcases Harris's voice in all its dimensions: her singing voice, which is, as always, utterly captivating, and her increasingly assured writer's voice -- she either wrote or co-wrote 10 of the 11 songs here, the lone exception being the traditional "Plaisir d'Amour." Burn's soundscapes are suitably atmospheric and rich, but spare. The softly strummed acoustic guitar, wisps of harmonica, and lightly brushed drums make Harris's repeated exhortations of "Can't you hear me now?" at the end of "Can You Hear Me Now" sound searching and lost in the most haunting way. Similarly, in "Strong Hand," dedicated to the late June Carter Cash, evocative sonics lend grandeur to a song celebrating the simple, enduring love June had for everything and everyone in her life (Linda Ronstadt adds harmonies, for good measure). Even a funky little tale of lust a-borning, "Jupiter Rising," benefits from a small-combo lineup that keeps a steady groove without any single instrument hogging the scene. Julie Miller contributes some plaintive background cries to the dark, shuffling "Here I Am," Harris's winsome tale of longing for a lover whose emotional and geographical distance is taking its toll. Jane Siberry guests on two songs, as do the McGarrigle sisters -- the latter's celestial harmonies on "Cup of Kindness," the beautiful album closer about the ties that bind, are especially effective. Humanity is what it's all about here, and clearly Emmylou knows whereof she speaks. David McGee
All Music Guide
There's something just the slightest bit comic about calling an Emmylou Harris album Stumble into Grace. While Harris has always sounded as if both earthly and spiritual grace were created with her in mind, when she sings, it seems she can no more stumble than a dolphin can be taught to walk on dry land. Stumble into Grace finds Harris following in the same creative path she began to pursue with Wrecking Ball and Red Dirt Girl, which is to say that the influence of her country-influenced material is more felt than heard as she dips her toes into the spectral and atmospheric accents of folk, indie pop, and world music. While Harris has long been just as interested in nuance and blank spaces as the notes of her songs, producer Malcolm Burn (who also collaborated with her on Red Dirt Girl) knows what to make of the purposefully spare surfaces of these new songs (which, again, like Red Dirt Girl, were, for the most part, written by Harris herself), and the results are splendid. Part of the revelation of Wrecking Ball and Red Dirt Girl was hearing Harris moving in a startling new direction, and while Stumble into Grace seems less novel in the context of its immediate predecessors, the bitter clarity of "Time in Babylon," the gentle but energetic textures of "Little Bird," and the funky shuffle of "Jupiter Rising" confirm that she hasn't run out of new avenues to explore. After three decades as a world-class talent, what's most heartening is that Harris is not only making some of the finest music of her career at a time when many artists would be treading water, but she's delightfully confounding expectations at the same time. Stumble into Grace shows she's still playing at the top of her game. Mark Deming
Entertainment Weekly
Lovely, heartbreaking, and just diffident enough to get perspective on this bittersweet old world. (A) Kristina Feliciano