vinylfanatics.com

**Nanci Griffith - Other Voices, Other Rooms**
★★★★☆

In the pantheon of folk-country crossover artists, few possessed the literary sensibility and interpretive grace of Nanci Griffith, and nowhere is this more evident than on her masterpiece "Other Voices, Other Rooms." Released in 1993, this album represents the Texas troubadour at her most ambitious and arguably most successful, weaving together a tapestry of covers that feels less like a collection of borrowed songs and more like a deeply personal memoir written in other people's words.

The album arrived at a pivotal moment in Griffith's career. Following the commercial breakthrough of "Late Night Grande Hotel" and "Storms," she had established herself as a formidable songwriter with a gift for narrative folk that could appeal to both country and adult contemporary audiences. But rather than capitalize on that momentum with another album of originals, Griffith took a creative left turn, choosing to explore the works of artists who had influenced her journey. The result was an album that somehow managed to be both her most derivative and most distinctly personal work.

Musically, "Other Voices, Other Rooms" finds Griffith operating in the sweet spot between folk, country, and adult contemporary pop that she had perfected throughout the late '80s and early '90s. Her crystalline voice, always her greatest instrument, floats over arrangements that are lush without being overwrought, intimate without being sparse. Producer Peter Van Hooke and Neil Dorfsman created sonic landscapes that serve the songs rather than overshadowing them, allowing Griffith's interpretive skills to take center stage.

The album's greatest triumph is Griffith's remarkable ability to make these borrowed songs feel like natural extensions of her own voice. Her version of Woody Guthrie's "Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)" transforms a political protest song into something achingly personal, while her take on Ralph McTell's "Streets of London" finds new emotional depths in familiar territory. Perhaps most impressively, she tackles Bob Dylan's "Boots of Spanish Leather" and somehow manages to make it feel like a Nanci Griffith song, no small feat given Dylan's towering presence in the folk canon.

The album's standout moments include a haunting rendition of Kate Wolf's "Across the Great Divide," which showcases Griffith's ability to find the universal in the specific, and a gorgeous version of Townes Van Zandt's "Tecumseh Valley" that pays homage to the Texas songwriter while maintaining her own artistic identity. Her interpretation of John Prine's "Speed of the Sound of Loneliness" is particularly noteworthy, stripping away some of the original's country twang in favor of a more contemplative, folk-leaning arrangement that emphasizes the song's existential weight.

While "Other Voices, Other Rooms" represents Griffith's creative peak, it's worth noting that her broader catalog contains numerous gems. Earlier albums like "Lone Star State of Mind" and "Little Love Affairs" established her as a songwriter of considerable skill, crafting character-driven narratives with the precision of a short story writer. Songs like "Love at the Five and Dime" became modern folk standards, covered by everyone from Kathy Mattea to Suzy Bogguss.

Her later work, while never quite matching the cohesive brilliance of "Other Voices, Other Rooms," continued to showcase her gifts as both interpreter and originator. Albums like "Flyer" and "Blue Roses from the Moons" found her exploring different musical territories while maintaining the literary sensibility that made her such a distinctive voice in American popular music.

Today, more than three decades into her career, Griffith's influence can be heard in a generation of folk and Americana artists who share her commitment to storytelling and her ability to find the profound in the everyday. While she may not have achieved the commercial heights of some of her contemporaries, her artistic legacy is secure. "Other Voices, Other Rooms" stands as a testament to the power of interpretation, proving that sometimes the most personal artistic statement can be made through someone else's words. In an era of singer-songwriters who often mistake confession for profundity, Griffith's work reminds us that the best art often comes from looking outward rather than inward, finding our own stories reflected in the experiences of others.