originally appeared on houstonpress.com

By William Michael Smith

Led Zeppelin shouter Robert Plant and country/pop vocalist Alison Krauss seem like a highly unlikely duo. When I heard they’d made an album together called Raising Sand, the pairing seemed so odd I didn’t really even want to hear it. I thought their two voices would clash like Lucinda Williams and Robbie Fulks.

But the woman in my life, a pretty fair vocalist in her own right, kept telling me I had to listen to it. Now she and I don’t exactly listen in lockstep; she likes Rufus Wainright and Julie Andrews, I like Drive-By Truckers and Rockpile. But when she handed me a copy I felt I owed her the courtesy of giving it a shot. What I heard was a wonderful sampler of great country covers along with a couple of rockers and a few pleasantly off-kilter ballads like Sam Phillips’ amazing “Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us.”

Suffice to say, Raising Sand has since become one of my favorite, go-back-to albums. [Ed note: hear hear.] I honestly never tire of it. It went on to win nearly every possible accolade that the Americana Music Association conveys, and many, many Grammys including Album of the Year.

The song from the album that absolutely magnetizes me is “Killing The Blues.” Written by Chris Isaak’s bass player Rowland Salley, the tune has been covered by Shawn Colvin, Chris Smither and John Prine.

I was sitting in my watering hole Saturday night when the Plant/Krauss version came on the jukebox, and it reminded me again of the greatness of the track and why the album has been so lauded. It has everything a great country song needs: stylish yet tasteful low-end guitar twang, subtle steel guitar, killer voices, a lyric to melt all the ice in your soul, and producer T-Bone Burnett’s always amazing sense of tempo and pace.

It is one of the tragedies of Hurricane Ike that Plant and Krauss cancelled their show scheduled for the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion last September. Though rumors have already started circulating about a Sand sequel, the chance to see this in person may never come again.

Originally appeared on Tricities.com

by Joe Tennis

A big night at the Grammys – with multiple wins – shined more light on the recent vocal combination of Robert Plant singing with Alison Krauss.

A godfather of hard rock, known for a dozen years as the frontman for Led Zeppelin, Plant might, on the surface, seem an unlikely match for Krauss, the angelic voiced fiddler who was once the darling of bluegrass music – and one, too, who dared stretch its limits.

But to know Plant through all the years is to know that the one-of-a-kind crooner has always been up for a musical challenge – and is clearly interested in a variety of styles.

So comes “Raising Sand,” the Grammy-winning duet album of largely acoustic tunes and soft rockers that should not be overlooked by any fan of Led Zeppelin or Krauss.

This pair of tall talents rolls through 13 tracks, skillfully produced by T. Bone Burnett. The hit “Gone Gone Gone” rocks with a funky groove, while “Please Read the Letter” shows a more plaintive side, capable of lifting heartstrings. From “Rich Woman” to “Fortune Teller,” this entire album is a joyous musical journey.

Bottom line: It would be a crime if this pair did not record together again.

Originally appeared on tonight.co.za

By Theresa Smith

(Rating: 4 stars)

Acoustic folk, country and bluegrass stripped to the core and tenderly recrafted.

This is an elegant homage to all that is good about Americana, but you have to wonder whether it would have been noticed by the mainstream if it wasn’t for Robert Plant’s name. Better known as an influential rock singer, Plant has been making serious inroads on the blues/folk scene for years and this Grammy Award-winning collaboration with bluegrass queen, Alison Krauss, is an unusual project that highlights good music over commercial consideration.

It’s an indulgence in that most of the tracks are not the sugary pap we usually hear on our radio stations. The songs are actually excellent re-interpretations (read covers) about dark subjects like saying goodbye, loss and leaving, with some upbeat rock thrown in for good measure.

The banjo on Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us lends the song a whimsical feel, but Krauss’s haunting voice grounds the song, while her fiddle playing on Nothin’ is a subtle counterpoint to the banjo, neither of which can overshadow Plant’s very Led Zep misery as he sings: “Hey mama, when you leave/Don’t leave a thing behind/I don’t want nothing.”

Krauss’s clear soprano is well-matched by her fiddle playing skills as well as the pedal steel guitar used on certain of the tracks and she turns Trampled Rose into a poignant existential lament.

Neither twangs, but they still turn Gone Gone Gone and Please Read the Letter into country songs, reminding us that talent will eventually out. - Theresa Smith

Originally appeared on reddirtreport.com

By Andrew W. Griffin

It was approximately a week ago that the stunning 2007 album Raising Sand, featuring the voices of bluegrass star Alison Krauss and rock legend Robert Plant, swept five categories at the Grammy Awards, including album of the year and best contemporary folk/Americana album.

And while it has been out for well over a year, Red Dirt Report has finally gotten a chance to listen to Raising Sand. And after a few spins, the hairs on the back of your neck are raised simply due to the album’s dark beauty, eclectic nature and spot-on production value. ||Continue reading||

originally appeared on blog.napster.com

This subtle and enchanting album was maybe the nicest surprise of 2007, and this Sunday it’s up for several of those golden statues of ancient sound-reproduction devices handed out each year by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Not one, or two, or three or four, but five, making it among the most-nominated albums this time around, tying Radiohead and Jazmine Sullivan, and exceeded only by Lil Wayne and Coldplay (seven each) and Jay-Z, Ne-Yo, and Kanye West (six apiece). But back to Robert Plant and Alison Krauss: Their inspired collaboration, which hardly ever gets above a whisper on the record, was shepherded by the great T-Bone Burnett (he of O Brother Where Art Thou fame), and the result really is spellbinding. Krauss is always wonderful no matter who she teams up with, and Plant is positively stately, summing up a career’s worth of fascination with American roots music with this one serene and very classy gesture. (Not that he’s done or anything, but this effort makes so much sense once you hear it, you’d think he could just walk away at this point and be happy.) But while each brings so much to the party in their own right, the magic really happens when they sing together: Their voices pair up so beautifully, it’s the aural equivalent of wine and cheese, chocolate and peanut butter, apple pie and ice cream, fish and chips, hot dogs and buns (getting hungry… must stop… take your pick). Anyway, it’s a fine, fine thing they’ve done, and those who do the nominatin’ for those award thingies evidently agree: The project is up for Record of the Year (for “Please Read the Letter”), Album of the Year, Best Pop Collaboration with Vocals (for “Rich Woman”), Best Country Collaboration with Vocals (for “Killing the Blues”), and Best Contemporary Folk/Americana Album. Amen to that. Oh, and for the record, the Recording Academy’s eligibility period for this year’s awards ran from Oct. 1, 2007 through Sept. 30, 2008, and Raising Sand came out on Oct. 23, aught-seven. Just in case anyone was wondering.

Originally appeared on LikeADesertProphet.com

Let me preface this post by saying that I generally don’t care for bluegrass/country. In fact, I don’t much care for most genres, as I find them… well, whatever the reasons, the result is the same: I don’t like things. And yet, I like this — I like this very much. I would use phrases like “haunting” or “deep like the ocean” had they not been said so oft before. Raising Sand is not bluegrass; Bluegrass is Raising Sand. Upon any listen, it seems to me that this came first and all other records which I despise are subsequent, non-essential, and slanders to the original. Every song is a welding of hooks, and it never tires nor does it wander from its singular devotion: The immeasurable pain of music felt so correctly and the melancholic knowledge that it will end in two and a half minutes.