Barnes & Noble
If you believe the world's a bit mad, you need to get close to The Outsider. Here, Rodney Crowell, one of the great writers and producers of his time, funnels his gifts into a major event of an album. His faith bubbles to the top, no matter how grim the current prospectus. "May God forgive us our insanity / and we'll keep pressing on," he intones on "We Can't Turn Back." He's singing with an authority born of unswerving commitment to his message, hitting some high, anguished notes that we've not heard from him before, or at least that have not been informed by this depth of passion. His rock 'n' roll band is second to none, fueled by guitarist Will Kimbrough, whose howling, searing solos on songs such as "Things That Go Bump in the Day" are the aural embodiment of the righteous anger fueling Crowell's pamphleteering. And he infuses his soundscapes with layers of acoustic and electric instruments, rhythm sections pounding ominously or thumping like a well-conditioned heart, and background voices shadowing his own like a ghostly Greek chorus throughout, Crowell again taking a page out of the Beatles' textbook. As always, his songs are top-notch. In the pounding "The Obscenity Prayer (Give It to Me)," he mercilessly scalds conspicuous consumption and unbridled greed, while on "Don't Get Me Started," he catalogues the madness born of "scamming for oil" in the Middle East. Crowell takes the measure of our times and finds us -- as in humanity -- wanting. And yet, in the end, he finds hope in "We Can't Turn Back," expressed in the jubilant, hearty strains of an Irish-tinged melody and a lyrical conceit that counsels perseverance against overwhelming odds. The Outsider is a humanistic masterpiece. David McGee
All Music Guide
Rodney Crowell's The Outsider is a natural extension of his last two offerings: The Houston Kid and Fate's Right Hand. Where The Houston Kid was Crowell's autobiographical confessional and Fate's Right Hand was deeply philosophical and influenced by everything from Zen to the working through of anger, The Outsider digs deep into social and political consciousness. The album rocks harder than any Crowell record in the past, as evidenced by "Don't Get Me Started," which is an anti-war anthem that takes aim at the war in Iraq. Immediately following is "The Obscenity Prayer," written from the point of view of a hypocritical right-wing pleasure seeker whose positions are not only indefensible, they are, at worst, obscene. Conversely, the Zen-like advice in "Dancin' Circles Round the Sun" is a tough country rocker with killer rockabilly guitar lines by Stewart Smith and Hammond B3 grooves by John Hobbs. It is a testament to personal responsibility and awakening that exhorts and admonishes but never preaches. There is great tenderness here, as well, such as in the acoustically driven "Ignorance Is the Enemy," with its prayer-like cadence and spoken-word vocals by Emmylou Harris and John Prine. "Glasgow Girl" is as fine a country-rock love song as has been written in recent years. The album closes with "We Can't Turn Back Now," a rousing call for acceptance, forbearance, and perseverance, whose guitars and big bassline is graced by a stellar fiddle line and a beautifully delicate tin whistle winding through it all. Crowell -- still writing hits for "Hot 100" country artists to help finance and keep creative control of his recordings -- has matured into an artist who has the of hard-won experience that displays itself as poetically wrought wisdom. His work is full of humor, light, poignancy, and killer hooks. He's now written and recorded three big topic records, all of which surpass his early work. The only thing missing here now is a record on the other big topic: Love. Perhaps that's coming. Until then, The Outsider is the Rodney Crowell recording to listen to, debate with, and be inspired by. Thom Jurek
Entertainment Weekly
Indignation gets him rocking so righteously that the album's an unexpected ball. (A) Chris Willman