Alison Krauss’ idiosyncratic compilation Now That I’ve Found You: A Collection, released on 7 February 1995, bridged the worlds of mainstream country, bluegrass, and the emerging Americana scene into a country music landmark. That means that for better or worse, Now That I’ve Found You changed country music – and introduced millions of listeners to its most gorgeous voice.
Krauss’ voice deserves that title as a sound–not as an expressive tool (compared to, say, George Jones or Patsy Cline), but as the purest, most gorgeous vocal instrument that the genre has ever had.
Alison Krauss first gained notoriety in the 1980s as a teenage bluegrass fiddle prodigy. However, Now That I’ve Found You became her mainstream breakthrough, introducing her to millions of fans in and outside of bluegrass. It became likely the first record by a bluegrass artist to sell a million copies, selling two million in the US by March 1996 and paving the way for the platinum success of Nickel Creek, whom Krauss produced, and the blockbuster sales of the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack, to which Krauss contributed in the early 2000s.
With her remarkable talent and sales, Krauss was considered a significant figure in Americana, bluegrass, and the exploding country mainstream of the 1990s. In 1995, the Country Music Association (CMA) awards even gave her the coveted Female Vocalist of the Year and Single of the Year for her version of “When You Say Nothing at All” with her band, Union Station.
The shift that Alison Krauss’ music signaled in country, bluegrass, and Americana was controversial. It represented a softer, more pristine approach to scenes and genres, especially with what music producer Art Menius calls the “feminization of bluegrass” (quoted in Bill C. Malone and Tracey E. W. Laird, Country Music USA, 50th-anniversary edition, The University of Texas Press, 2018) accompanying the rise of more female artists and bandleaders in bluegrass. As one example of such a critique, citing Krauss, music historian Colin Escott went after what he called “the dearth of mountain soul” in the bluegrass of the 1990s and 2000s (Lost Highway: The True Story of Country Music, Smithsonian, 2003).
Krauss’ music felt more polished than the early records of Bill Monroe, the Stanley Brothers, and Flatt and Scruggs. However, in the history of bluegrass, country, and Americana, the commercial ascendance of the genres paved the way for and was partly enabled by Krauss’ music.
Critics like Tom Moon have noted her rock flourishes in albums like her 1990 album, I’ve Got That Old Feeling (1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die, Workman, 2008), and her later collaborations with Robert Plant further prove that Krauss’ investment in the rock roots of Americana/alternative country is longstanding. Among the three previously unreleased tracks on Now That I’ve Found You, she covered the Foundations’ “Baby, Now That I’ve Found You” and Bad Company’s “Oh, Atlanta“, songs from the classic rock era that worked well in her newer, more intimate style.
Now That I’ve Found You was unusual as a “best of” introduction, concentrating less on Grammy-winning tracks like “I’ve Got That Old Feeling” and more on key album tracks and collaborations with the likes of Tony Furtado and the Cox Family. By typical market logic, this would not have been an easily accessible entry point to Krauss’ work.
However, the album, released on the independent Rounder Records, is a masterpiece. The newer tracks indeed focus on more pop-friendly arrangements, including loud drums and electric guitar, instead of strictly older bluegrass styles; Entertainment Weekly complained about their relative lack of fiddle. However, prior to Beyoncé, Alison Krauss had the most Grammy awards of any woman in history, so the industry fell for Krauss even as some critics lagged behind.
In the emerging Americana (aka alternative country or alt-country) scene of the 1990s, Alison Krauss stood out. That movement responded to the mainstream country boom as a revival of older sounds under more ironic, appropriative pretenses. To my ears, I don’t hear irony or appropriation in Krauss’ music. Still, I hear a gleeful pastiche of sonic elements that I associate with other Americana and alt-country artists, like Gillian Welch (which I discuss in my PopMatters article). However, Krauss’ work sounds less archaic and jarring, self-consciously or otherwise, and more appealing to contemporary audiences.
Finally, though Krauss was associated with Americana and alt-country, her success in the mainstream country world following this album marked a turning point for country music–not only towards more rootsy sounds in years to come but in the acceptance of bluegrass and Krauss’ unique approach in the dominant country market.
The best example of this on the album is her definitive take on the late Keith Whitley‘s classic “When You Say Nothing at All”, recorded for a 1994 Whitley tribute album, though again, its arrangement repelled some purists. As I wrote in my PopMatters article on 1990s country, Alison Krauss’ version is my favorite 1990s country song and my favorite country love song ever, with a uniquely pure-sounding, pared-down performance that gets my vote for the country vocal of the decade.
But in different ways, every track on Now That I’ve Found You is superb. Many are gorgeously muted and intimate, while a handful are comparatively rollicking. But most of the record’s tone is subdued and downtempo, with many songs about love and heartache and two excellent gospel recordings with the Cox Family.
The album’s distinguishing feature is the superior quality of the vocal performances. Though the quiet, wispy sound on the newer tracks, especially “Baby, Now That I’ve Found You”, contrasts sharply with the youthfully passionate, Dolly Parton-influenced melisma on the earlier “Tonight I’ll Be Lonely Too”, Krauss sets a stunning benchmark for vocals across genres–not only country and bluegrass.
The debate is open on whether Alison Krauss positively influenced bluegrass. Some would say the album’s aftermath helped turn bluegrass into what Escott disparagingly calls “pretty music”. But the album’s influence and quality are undeniable.
When I hear the LP today, Krauss’s jaw-dropping sound still gives me chills, as it did three decades ago. However, it lacks the raw warbling quality associated with older bluegrass singers like Bill Monroe, Ralph Stanley, and Hazel Dickens. Thus, it’s understandable why so-called “purists” took issue with the changes she represented.
However, country music, including bluegrass, is a commercial category more than a specific sound, as scholars like Nadine Hubbs and Pamela Fox convincingly argue. That means that when purists like country music’s eminent historian, Bill C. Malone, rightly note that country music is a hybrid form, that idea contradicts the idea that country and bluegrass have ever been pure.
In the wake of the record’s commercial success, Krauss followed up Now That I’ve Found You with ultimately underrated, though commercially successful, albums like the stellar So Long So Wrong with Union Station. Her most high-profile work in the decades since has been with the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack and collaborations with Robert Plant.
In contrast to her frequent recordings in the 1990s, Krauss has released only three albums in the last 15 years: one with Union Station, one solo covers LP, and one reunion album with Plant. However, the music on Now That I’ve Found You continues to define her work for many in country music, as unusual as the compilation is. That’s for the best because even if the world only knew Alison Krauss from this album, her place in music history would be assured.