Emmylou Harris established her country credentials early in her career, when she joined Gram Parsons to sing backup on his two monumental solo albums, 1972's G.P. and 1973's Grievous Angel. But in spite of the crystalline twang she brought to Parsons' work–and the tasteful bridging of country and pop she assayed throughout the '70s and '80s–Harris' real role in the "Cosmic American Music" movement was to provide ethereal sparkle for Parsons' dusty hippie blues. In tone and spirit, Harris has as much in common with the Cocteau Twins as she does with Tammy Wynette, and lately, she's been indulging her wispiness. Harris' new Stumble Into Grace wraps up a trilogy that began with 1995's Daniel Lanois-produced Wrecking Ball and continued with 2000's Red Dirt Girl, produced by Lanois protégé Malcolm Burn. Burn returns for Stumble Into Grace, once again placing Harris' angelic voice in the context of ambient pop. His sparse arrangements rely on quietly bubbling electric bass and far-off echoes of tinkling piano and guitar whine, with intermittent percussion for depth, not drive. The vocal-centric framing makes Harris' hazy romantic sketches of hopeful girls on sunlit days sound somewhat unearthly, like ancient hymns by forgotten authors. The two Stumble Into Grace tracks co-written by Harris and Anna and Kate McGarrigle exemplify the album's sublimity: "I Will Dream" starts with the muted drama of a honky-tonk weeper and deepens into something like gospel, while "Little Bird" follows a Celtic-tinged melody until it becomes a healing singalong. The two songs serve as a kind of unarticulated question and answer, with vague unrest settled by a sense of community and spiritual connection. Even breezy pop songs like "Jupiter Rising" and timeless standards like "Plaisir D'Amour" gain profundity from Harris and Burn's genteel approach. Stumble Into Grace extends the collaborators' vivid demonstration of how music can match the air that contains it, and make each creak and rustle of the room sound like part of a song.