Rosie Thomas, an old-fashioned folksinger from Seattle (via Detroit), debuted with When We Were Small (Subpop, 2001), a collection of intimate songs in the tradition of Joni Mitchell's austere contralto and somber confessions. Thomas is never predictable, never trivial, never superficial, and occasionally great (the melodious Arlo Guthrie-esque Two Dollar Shoes, the pop meditation of Wedding Day, the tragic, quasi-Celtic hymn of I Run, the piano elegy Farewell, the nostalgic cello and piano lied Bicycle Tricycle, Finish Line) but would probably benefit from more developed arrangements.

Only With Laughter Can You Win (Subpop, 2003) has the tender, discretely festive quality of an old-fashioned music-box (Red Rover, All My Life) and the gentle spellbound quality of an ailing romantic in love (Let Myself Fall, the soaring You And Me). Her country-rock shuffles are personal without being pretentious, evoking a more relaxed, domestic, girl-next-door Joni Mitchell (I Play Music, Tell Me How). The lulling piano-guitar melodies of Sell All My Things, One More Day attest to a melodic talent that has barely begun to blossom. The longer, more dynamic and dramatic Gradually, and the oneiric, transcendental closer, Dialogue, open ever more adventurous horizons. Here the piano is truly an "instrument", not just a sound, and the voice digs deep into the psyche, searching for the nuances that make the difference between a statement and a truth. In her chosen confessional style, it is difficult to sustain the length of an entire album. This time Thomas succeeds, and in a brilliant manner.

If Songs Could Be Held (Sub Pop, 2005) focused on the least original trait of Thomas' music, the "Sarah McLachlan for a younger audience" quality of many of her songs.

Despite the number of guests, These Friends Of Mine (2007) and With Love (2012) were rather uninspired collections.