Mark Deming, All Music Guide

In 1987, John Hiatt, clean and sober and looking for an American record deal, was asked by an A&R man at a British label to name his dream band. After a little thought, Hiatt replied that if he had his druthers, he'd cut a record with Ry Cooder on guitar, Nick Lowe on bass, and Jim Keltner on drums. To Hiatt's surprise, he discovered all three were willing to work on his next album; Hiatt and his dream band went into an L.A. studio and knocked off Bring the Family in a mere four days, and the result was the best album of Hiatt's career. The musicians certainly make a difference here, generating a lean, smoky groove that's soulful and satisfying (Ry Cooder's guitar work is especially impressive, leaving no doubt of his singular gifts without ever overstepping its boundaries), but the real triumph here is Hiatt's songwriting. Bring the Family was recorded after a period of great personal turmoil for him, and for the most part the archly witty phrasemaker of his earlier albums was replaced by an wiser and more cautious writer who had a great deal to say about where life and love can take you. Hiatt had never written anything as nakedly confessional as "Tip of My Tongue" or "Learning How to Love You" before, and even straight-ahead R&B-style rockers like "Memphis in the Meantime" and "Thing Called Love" possessed a weight and resonance he never managed before. But Bring the Family isn't an album about tragedy, it's about responsibility and belatedly growing up, and it's appropriate that it was a band of seasoned veterans with their own stories to tell about life who helped Hiatt bring it across; it's a rich and satisfying slice of grown-up rock & roll.

Michael Ruby, Amazon.com

Even John Hiatt's most ardent fans weren't ready for this masterpiece to be dropped in their laps in 1987. Hiatt had spent most of the 70's and 80's playing pick-a-style, bouncing from southern country rock to Elvis Costello redux and back again. With Family, though, he pared away every bit of excess and delivered his best set of songs with the understated, impossibly tasteful backing of Nick Lowe on bass, Ry Cooder on guitar and Jim Keltner on drums. Hiatt's sober, uncompromising examination of his previously drunken life was breathtaking; producing instant classics in "Have a Little Faith in Me" and "Thing Called Love." Family remains a landmark of adult album rock.

Personnel: John Hiatt (vocals, acoustic guitar, piano); Ry Cooder (guitar); Nick Lowe (bass); Jim Keltner (drums). Recorded at Ocean Way Studio 2, Los Angeles, California, February 17-20, 1987.

Hiatt was already a seasoned performer and songwriter by the time this album was released. He was "the songwriter's songwriter" and destined for critically acclaimed cult status. This is just one of a series of excellent collections of songs that have been recorded by dozens of artists from Bonnie Raitt to Joe Cocker. The simple piano accompanying the gravel-voiced "Have A Little Faith In Me" makes the hairs stand up on end. Hiatt's fine supporting musicians are Jim Keltner (drums), Ry Cooder (guitar) and Nick Lowe (bass). This unsung genius is the Randy Newman of roots-rock.

Jeff Tamarkin, CMJ New Music Report

It would be easy to cite the band alone as the reason Bring The Family is the most compelling record John Hiatt has made-Ry Cooder Nick Lowe and Jim Keltner ain't exactly your neighborhood bar band. But that's only the icing on Hiatt's delicious cake; what drives the singer-songwriter's A & M debut is a set of songs that provide a welcome blast of intelligence in a Beastie Boy wand, It's not just that Hiatt can rhyme amoeba with Queen of Sheba and not make it sound deliberate: each and every track here is rich with lyrical brilliance and tightly composed. Whether Hiatt is writing of being fed up with Nashville ("Memphis in The Meantime") or the difficulty of a new relationship ("Learning How To Love You"), he approaches his songs by taking for granted that his audience will possess a pop 10 above the norm. And the payoff is rewarding, as when, in "Your Dad Did" (a biting condemnation of a man following in his father's less than noble footsteps) Hiatt sings, "You've seen the old mans ghost come back as chipped beef on toast/Now if you don't get your slice of the roast/You're gonna flip your lid/Just like your dad did." Those are a thinking man's words, and there's an album full of them here. Which is not to say Bring The Family doesn't rock. The single, "Thank You Girl," is built like a thumpasaurus. Cooder's slide slicing through, and "Have A Little Faith In Me" is Hiatt at his most soulful, which is to say plenty. And, yeah, there is the band. not the one-time-only deal you might expect (they've toured in various combinations) interlocking behind Hiatt's groove as if they've been chugging it out for years-like your neighborhood bar band. John Hiatt's been called a well kept secret for so many years now that the secret long ago should've leaked. It would be presumptuous to think that a record this smart will ever find its way to the masses, although stranger things have happened. But it would be a shame if Bring The Family didn't increase Hiatt's flock by at least some healthy percentage points. it's been a few years since Hiatt's last. Rediscover, and bring the whole family this time.

Peter Kane, Q Magazine, November 1998

There wasn't much call for singer-songwriters in the late-'70s. Much like Elvis Costello, John Hiatt found himself bracketed with the skinny-tie new wavers because he had fire in his belly and there didn't seem to be anywhere else to put him. By 1987, with seven albums already to his name, the flames were running low and he was dropped by Geffen. A lifeline was initially provided by UK label Demon and he responded with what remains his best shot, Bring The Family: 10 finely crafted songs that played to his strongest suit of being both warm and wry, helped no end by the presence of Nick Lowe, Jim Keltner and Ry Cooder, a gathering that would soon reconvene formally (if less successfully) as Little Village. Recorded in Nashville rather than Los Angeles, 1988's Slow Turning covered similar territory with equal maturity and, again, good tunes like Drive South and Tennessee Plates. 1990's Stolen Moments, though, was at best a holding operation before he returned rowdy and rejuvenated for Perfectly Good Guitar (1993) which, helmed by Faith No More producer Matt Wallace, briefly gave him access to a younger crowd, somewhat at the expense of those who had stuck with him since the days of Slugline.

© Frank Steven Groen