It's often the case that when a musician feels like they have nothing of relevance to say about their own lives anymore, they turn to politics and use their misplaced sense of righteousness to commentate on the affairs of the world. There's nothing wrong with this, per se - (coughblameBonocough) - but lately it seems like every second singer/songwriter is attempting to channel the spirit of Woody Guthrie, in an effort to appear more 'cutting edge' and 'relevant'. Perhaps that isn't Sheryl Crow's intention here - she has, after all, been involved in campaigning for environmental awareness in recent years - yet Detours is an album that mixes politics and affairs of the heart, but doesn't really convince on either count. Surprisingly only her sixth studio album (it seems like the 46-year-old has been around forever), Crow mostly tackles the last two tumultuous years of her life (her split with cyclist Lance Armstrong is noted on Diamond Ring, her breast cancer battle covered on Make It Go Away, while the adoption of her son is referenced on Lullaby for Wyatt) over a soundtrack that was rumoured to have taken a new direction, but which doesn't really sound hugely different to her previous output. Detours is largely a languid pop-rock album imbued with Crow's trademark upbeat, roots-tinged melodies regardless of the subject matter, and is inoffensive, harmless radio fodder, for the most part. The political edge runs deep through the album, but is about as cutting as a butter knife: Shine Over Babylon claims 'It won't be long before we're all killers', and Gasoline's futuristic cautionary tale drills home the point more thoroughly and repetitively than an overworked oil rig employee. Again, however, there's a sense that although Crow means well, this album is neither an effective nor interesting detour - musically or lyrically. Fans only.