"Blessed" Reviews

http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/music/2011/02/28/2011-02-28_lucinda_williams_blessed_review_focus_on_other_people_shows_singer_has_got_more_.html

Blessed
Lucinda Williams ‘Blessed’ review: Focus on other people shows singer has got more to give

Jim Farber
Monday, February 28th 2011, 4:00 AM

Lucinda Williams’ ‘Blessed’ shows that she has more to give than just self reflection. Lucinda Williams discovered something new for her latest album: other people.

For the first time in a 30-year career, Williams kept the focus off herself, filling “Blessed” instead with songs that either take a character’s point of view, offer pronouncements on people around her or directly address the audience with messages of succor or warning.

That’s a dramatic turnaround for a woman who cemented her early reputation as a self-absorbed expert on awful relationships. On albums like 2000’s “Essence,” ’03’s “World Without Tears” and her undying classic, “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” (1998), Williams chronicled an epic list of unreturned phone calls, cheating lovers and partners hellbent on drink and destruction.

Those time-honored subjects paired well with her main image: being a pioneer of alterna-country-rock. American roots music — neo or otherwise — has always prized bad love, second only to death. Coupled with her untamed vocal twang and beautifully ragged tunes, Williams became the new genre’s perfect queen.

But time changes everyone, even the love-lorn, and by her last CD, 2008’s “Little Honey,” Williams found herself singing to a very different muse. Instead of lapsing into longing, she lifted a glass to fulfillment. “Honey” featured songs about great sex, inner peace and a relationship so good it made her weep. The switch didn’t come out of creative boredom. It reflected her marriage to Tom Overby, now her manager and co-producer.

But you can only write so many odes to joy. So it’s no surprise that “Blessed” finds Williams at a new stage in getting over herself.

She can be both hard and forgiving in her portraits of others. In “Buttercup” she sings about an ungrateful creep who makes a dubious attempt to redeem himself. “I Don’t Know How You’re Living” finds her worrying for someone she loves who’s gone emotionally missing.

Williams finely balances songs that exude benevolence, like “Born To Be Loved,” with ones that speak of necessary suffering, like “Ugly Truth.” The star has evened out her musical focus as well. While her last CD tipped toward the rock side, following a rash of more leisurely paced releases, “Blessed” deftly mixes hard and soft. Only in “The Awakening” does Williams let the beat go too slack.

Longtime fans won’t find music here that subverts their expectations. Her chunky rockers still have that Crazy Horse kick. Her better ballads continue to beguile. But Williams’ new attitude of inclusion opens a door that swings both out to the world, and in, to show us more of what she’s got to give.

Lucinda Williams plays Webster Hall March 11 and 12.

http://journalstar.com/entertainment/music/article_7f7f98db-a481-5764-989a-21996f401a6f.html

Lucinda Williams, “Blessed”: On her last album, 2008’s “Little Honey,” Williams rocked out, celebrating her then-new-found love and marriage with a set of uplifting, joyous songs. With “Blessed,” she’s back in more familiar territory, singing of the pains of life and love. But she’s doing it with one difference from her previous work.

This time, songs are about characters rather than seemingly autobiographic. Because the world-weary sentiment remains the same, the shift to characters isn’t all that noticeable. But it reveals that Williams, at 58, is becoming a different kind of songwriter.

Musically, “Blessed” balances slower songs with hard-edged rockers, while producer Don Was sets Williams’ distinctive ragged, twangy voice in warm, enveloping sounds. That gives the record a rewarding richness that should make it connect for her fans. Grade: B

Reach L. Kent Wolgamott at 402-473-7244 or kwolgamott@journalstar.com or follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/KentWolgamott

http://www.popmatters.com/pm/feature/137338-in-a-different-place-now-an-interview-with-lucinda-williams/

“In a Different Place Now”: An Interview with Lucinda Williams
By Michael Franco 1 March 2011

She has toured with icons like Bob Dylan and Tom Petty, recorded with legends like Elvis Costello and Steve Earle, been named America’s best songwriter by Time magazine, and put together one of the most impressive bodies of albums this side of rock ‘n roll. But suggest to Lucinda Williams that it’s an honor to speak to her and she responds with baffled silence, a dismissive scoff, and then a simple, drawling “Okaaay”.

That speaking to her is, indeed, an honor is a fact that can’t be lost on her, but Williams doesn’t let on that she knows. Instead, she slides right into conversation, peppering her responses with you know‘s, (as if you two are old friends and you actually do know), clipping the end of her sentences with a southern chuckle (even her laugh drawls), and occasionally asking if you’ll hold on while she talks to her husband, manager Tom Overby (“Tom’s going out to have lunch with one of his music industry buddies … I asked him if he could go change his shirt because he has the same shirt on he had on yesterday.”).

But not only does Lucinda Williams come across as friendly, but also as incredibly happy. This is not only somewhat of a surprise, but a nice one. Read through Williams’ interviews from past years and scores of them refer to finding inspiration from horrible relationships and tortuous splits, her consistently spot-on breakup songs the result of consistently having fresh emotional wounds. Her newfound happiness, no doubt, has much to do with her recent marriage to Overby, though Williams is quick to assert that being happy will not strip her songs of her trademark grit.

“Everybody was so worried about how being married was going to affect my songwriting,” she acknowledges. “But I tell you, I wouldn’t be married to Tom. If that had been an issue, I would have figured that out already. That was a big test for me.”

And it was a test that Blessed, Williams’ new album, proves she passed with ease. While she still knows how to write songs about bad boys and broken hearts, the album also sees Williams addressing new topics—such as war—and approaching old ones with a maturity unseen on her previous releases. Though the difference between Blessed and Little Honey, her 2008 album, is evident, Williams explains that the shift was a natural artistic progression, not a conscious effort.

“I wasn’t consciously doing that. I never do that consciously. It’s just kind of whatever I’m writing at the time. I guess I was looking—not looking for different things to write about—but now that I’m married, that part of my life is in a different place now than it used to be. It’s actually allowing me to kind of open up more.”

Rather than taking offense at the suggestion that Blessed is more mature than some of her earlier albums, Williams takes the observation as a compliment, acknowledging that experience and the wisdom it brings can’t help but affect an artist’s craft.

“It’s just a different thing,” she says, referring to her songwriting now compared to that of earlier albums. “Everything is going to be different at different times in your life, you know, depending on where you are at that time. You want to feel like you’re growing as an artist. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones because I’m still very vital and creative. I definitely see the difference in my writing, between Car Wheels and now.”

A recurring theme on Blessed is death, a topic Williams has written about before, but one that colors the tone of the entire album. If there’s an overall message to be found in Blessed, it’s that everyone has to grapple with the unsettling reality of death and, as a result, find meaning in the everyday blessings of life. No, this isn’t a dark album—there are also songs about finding love and enjoying the experience of life—but this is an album shaped by the balancing forces of loss and, ultimately, compensation.

One song from the album that has garnered considerable attention is “Seeing Black”, which addresses the confusion and anger one feels in the wake of a suicide. Williams was inspired to write the song by the death of fellow songwriter Vic Chesnutt, who took his life on Christmas Eve of 2009 after struggling with being a quadriplegic for nearly three decades. But while his suicide was the catalyst for the song, Williams is adamant that she didn’t write it as a direct response.

“As soon as you attach someone’s name to something,” she notes, “it becomes about them. But it’s not really about him per se. It’s just … when I found out he took his life, it was real sudden. And I’ve explored that theme before in ‘Pineola’ and ‘Sweet Old World’. This was just kind of an exercise in that. But I was very emotional about it. I didn’t know Vic very well, but any time you hear about, you know—he’s one of us, a songwriter and singer and we were mutual admirers of each other’s work. I talked to him a few times and, of course, he wrote a song called ‘Lucinda Williams’.”

Even as she discusses the song, Williams struggles to convey the emotions brought on by Chesnutt’s suicide. “It was just so sad and everything,” she says, before trailing off into contemplation. “You’re always a little bit sort of angry … not angry, that’s not really the right word.” Not finding the right word, Williams again drifts off into silence, perfectly making her point in doing so.

Williams recently experienced the death of another person she held in high regard, both as a person and a professional. On her birthday, January 26, country legend Charlie Louvin succumbed to his battle with pancreatic cancer. Recalling the times she spent with Louvin on the road and on stage, Williams can’t help but gush with admiration.

“Charlie was just full of vim and vigor. He was a tough guy, a tough little guy, you know? There was this one time when we played in Kansas City. It was on an outdoor stage and it was real windy and he had his set list on the stage and it kept blowing away. And he finally got flustered, grabbed his pocketknife out of his pocket and—boom!—just stuck his pocketknife down to hold his set list on the stage.”

Williams remembers another side of Louvin, though, one shaped by the 1965 death of his brother and musical collaborator, Ira Louvin.

“Sometimes he [was full of] sadness,” Williams recalls, “because he lost his brother so many years ago. When we were sitting on the bus after the show that night, he said, ‘When we were driving up here on our way to Kansas City, we passed the very mile marker where Ira had been killed in a car crash.’ He knew the exact spot. He sat there and told us this and there was such sadness in his face. You know, somebody his age … He was like walking history.”

No surprise then that, wedged between the dueling forces of love and death, Williams decided to write a song about war, something she has been hesitant to do on previous albums. The challenge in writing a song that addresses war, she explains, is in exploring the topic without sounding preachy, polemical, or political. Enduring protest songs are the ones that focus on the actual human impact of war and not on an overtly controversial message. In that regard, they aren’t really meant to protest at all, but depict: if the artist can convey the reality, the listener can’t help but react.

“Those kind of songs are really hard to do,” she concedes. “Phil Ochs was able to do it, [and] of course Bob Dylan. But there were also those more gentle ones, like the Pete Seeger song ‘Where Have all the Flowers Gone’. I mean, that’s a great song. And it was considered a protest song at the time and it’s ‘Where have all the flowers gone / Long time passing’. So that’s something that I’ve wanted to explore for a long time. I wasn’t thinking of it that I wanted it to be a protest song, but I was certainly trying to make a statement about the horrors of war. But I wanted to take it and put it in a more personal, family, human aspect.”

In the past, Williams has been depicted in the press as a control freak, an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist who fixates on details so much that she’ll take the better part of a decade to make an album, nix people she has enlisted to assist in the making of an album, or both. For example, the recording of her breakout album, 1998’s Car Wheels On a Gravel Road, was marked by scrapped sessions, strained friendships, and replaced producers—all, allegedly, because Williams wanted to get the album unreasonably right.

If that portrayal of Williams was correct then, it certainly is not now. As she speaks about her approach to songwriting, it’s clear that she is much more intuitive than meticulous, letting her muse lead the way when—and if—it visits. Perhaps, through the experience of repeated success, she has learned that she can trust her own instincts; perhaps she has simply learned to relax. Either way, Williams seems like an artist in tune with her own creative instincts, not one at war with them.

“Sometimes it’s like writing in a journal or something,” she says, referring to the process of birthing a song. “It’s stream-of-consciousness, almost. I just put some thoughts out there. It usually begins with just a line I come up with or something like that. Or sometimes I’ll write a couple of verses or something, just some thoughts, like when I’m getting ready to go to bed or maybe when I very first wake up and I’m laying there thinking. And I get up, go grab a pen, and just whatever it is, put it down on paper right away so I don’t forget the idea … I don’t sit down and apply myself every single day, all day. That just kind of comes when I have the time.”

Williams’ relaxed approach towards writing and recording is due, in part, to having found the perfect creative foil in her husband. Overby is a record industry veteran, used to paying attention to the small details that often escape wild-eyed artists. Knowing that her husband will take care of such details, Williams is free of their burden—and free to keep her focus on the music.

“My approach to writing and recording and everything is very organic. Tom worked at a record company for a long time doing marketing, so he’s very conceptual. So we make a good team. For instance, when we go to put the songs in order, the sequence, I just don’t want to do that, but Tom’s really good at putting it all together. And sometimes I’ll go, ‘That’s a crazy idea!’ Like it was his idea for me to do that cover of [AC/DC’s] ‘It’s a Long Way to the Top’. I went, ‘Are you kidding? I don’t even like that song!’ I didn’t even know it, you know? He said, ‘Well, we just need another rock song on the record.’ And I’m going, ‘Who cares? Let’s just put the record out. It doesn’t matter.’ He’ll look at that. He’ll look at the whole picture and see how the record is balanced with all of the songs.”

After having spent so many years on the fringe of the music establishment, Williams now finds herself in the odd position of being a role model for aspiring artists. Her career serves as an example of how to do things the right way—ironic considering that Williams is a success despite the music industry rather than because of it. Asked about being such a role model, she has no secrets to share other than to keep the focus on the music, fame, and fortune be damned.

“I started so long ago as a solo singer-songwriter with just my voice and songs and that was my strength. I always knew in the back of my mind, ‘Well, if I lose this one record deal, my whole world isn’t going to fall apart and something else is going to happen. I’m just going to keep going.’ Part of it is just the patience factor—you know, hanging in there. And the era I came up in was about getting out there and playing in front of people. That’s how you build up your fan base and once you’ve got that core base, you’ve got it. Then it’s just a matter of the industry catching up with you. I think that’s kind of what happened with me.”

When asked what she thinks about being in the same group as the songwriters she has admired for so many years—songwriters like Dylan and Petty and Young and Springsteen—Williams has to force herself to reply. “It actually blows my mind to think that maybe I’m in the same group,” she whispers, as if a simple acknowledgement of the scale of her talents is blasphemy. And then, after more baffled silence, she breaks into that gorgeous southern chuckle.

Michael Franco is a Professor of English at Oklahoma City Community College, where he teaches composition and humanities. An alumnus of his workplace, he also attended the University of Central Oklahoma, earning both a B.A. and M.A. in English. Franco has been writing for PopMatters since 2004 and has also served as an Associate Editor since 2007. He considers himself lucky to be able to experience what he teaches, writing and the humanities, firsthand through his work at PopMatters, and his experiences as a writer help him teach his students to become better writers themselves.

http://www.thecrimson.com/article/2011/3/1/lucinda-williams-blessed/

Williams Sculpts Varied Beauties on ‘Blessed’
Lucinda Williams — ‘Blessed’ — Lost Highway — 4.5 STARS
By Keerthi Reddy, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
Published: Tuesday, March 01, 2011

“I’m 57 but I could be seven years old / ’Cause I will never be able to / Comprehend the expansiveness of what I’ve just learned,” sings Lucinda Williams on her newest album, “Blessed.” Given the strength of “Blessed” and her decades of critical acclaim, it is impressive that Williams is able to sustain this sort of humility. Williams’s newest album is a testament to the power and diversity of her style. Simple in most regards, the album is a collection of 12 emotionally-charged tracks that swing from slow jazz ballads to upbeat country rock tunes. What she lacks in complexity, Williams easily makes up for in quality, and both the lyrics and delivery of her songs are extraordinary. While on a song-to-song basis “Blessed” lacks thematic cohesion, it ultimately emerges as a touching compilation of incredibly powerful pieces.

When taken as such a collection, “Blessed” astounds. The final track, “Kiss Like Your Kiss,” is introduced by pulsing instruments and an arpeggiated guitar line. Williams layers a soft voice and beautiful imagery on top of the gentle instrumentals: “There’ll never be a spring so perfect again / We’ll never see a yellow so rich / The grass will never be quite as green / And there’ll never be a kiss like your kiss.” Her voice often wavers or barely hits a note, but these imperfections suit the song perfectly, as do her understated lyrics. The song flows like a gentle waltz—a simple, delicate account of the beauty of being in love.

On album-opener “Buttercup” and “Seeing Black,” Williams shows her tougher side. Backed by distorted guitars and a solid drum beat, she sings about disillusionment—with love on “Buttercup,” and with life on “Seeing Black.” “When did you start seeing black? / Was it too much good you felt you lacked? / Was it too much weight riding on your back?” she sings on the latter. In both songs, Williams is joined in the chorus by well-executed harmonies, which add force to the already muscular songs. The overall result is a confident indifference. This feeling stands in powerful contrast to her slower tracks, in which she lays her emotions bare.

The strongest song on “Blessed” is in many ways the most out of place. While the album lacks strong thematic or tonal consistency, “Soldier’s Song” is an even sharper departure from the other tracks. The song tells the story of a soldier at war and his love interest, with Williams narrating in the first person as a soldier on a battlefield. The song’s lyrics alternate between describing the soldier’s life and his love’s radically different domestic life—a juxtaposition that highlights the absurd, inhumane nature of war: “I met my enemy today / Baby takes the little one out to play / Enemy shot two of my buddies down / Baby rides the little one on the merry-go-round.” Williams also leaves out names, referring only to “baby,” “buddies,” and “enemy,” making the song a general anthem of all soldiers, not just a specific one. “Soldier’s Song” is so emotionally effective that it is difficult to listen to, but only because its message is so touchingly conveyed.

Aside from its lyrics, the most impressive feature of “Blessed” is the degree to which Williams uses her voice as a flexible emotional—if imperfect—tool. In “Buttercup,” she sings almost lackadaisically, her raspy voice literally slurring through the words. On “Soldier’s Song,” she sounds weary and meek, her voice wavering, suggesting the pain of the soldier. Her voice is clear and light on “Blessed,” and the song is one of the happier tracks on the album as a result.

On “Copenhagen,” Williams alters the tone of her voice yet again, singing in a gentle yet raw voice lyrics that perfectly describe the album: “Walking through unfamiliar streets and / Shaking unfamiliar hands and / Hearing unfamiliar laughs / And lovely language I don’t understand.” While it may seem trite, this is exactly what “Blessed” is—a walk through the unfamiliar streets of Williams’s disparate experiences while hearing the language of her emotions—emotions conveyed so directly and poetically as to be both heartrending and heartwarming.

—Staff Writer Keerthi Reddy can be reached at kreddy@college.harvard.edu.

http://www.austin360.com/music/on-latest-release-blessed-lucinda-williams-moves-past-1288362.html

On latest release, ‘Blessed’, Lucinda Williams moves past bumps in the road

By Brian T. Atkinson SPECIAL TO THE AMERICAN-STATESMAN

Updated: 7:17 p.m. Monday, Feb. 28, 2011

Published: 3:35 p.m. Monday, Feb. 28, 2011

Lucinda Williams abruptly halts her thought. She breathes deeply. Sighs with satisfaction. Now, the Louisiana native sets free her joy.

“I feel very blessed at this time in my life,” Williams says with an easy laugh, effectively stretching a smile across state lines from the Los Angeles home she shares with husband and manager, Tom Overby. “You want to feel that way by the time you get to be (my age). I just turned 58, and my perspective is certainly different than when I was 48 or 38. I think (my) songs reflect where I am at any given time. This album is more reflective, more mature.”

Not to mention absolutely seamless. Williams’ “Blessed” (out today), one of her finest moments since 1998’s Grammy-winning “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road,” streams with unparalleled elegance for an hour straight.

Its key: personal evolution. Williams has fueled countless high-water marks with romantic scorn (“Changed the Locks,” “Those Three Days”), but contentment clearly has deepened her wellspring. (She and Overby have been married nearly two years.) She tackles and transcends mortality (“Seeing Black,” “Copenhagen”). Grants herself heart (“The Awakening”) and hope (“Kiss Like Your Kiss”). She expresses gratitude (“Sweet Love”). In fact, Williams weaves that handsome reward throughout.

Consider the title track. “We were blessed by the minister who practiced what he preached,” she sings, as a lilting guitar warms the song’s already rich tone. “We were blessed by the poor man who said that heaven is within reach. We were blessed by the girl selling roses who showed us how to live. We were blessed by the neglected child who knew how to forgive.” The song’s universal message found her close to home.

“This little girl selling roses would come into a Mexican restaurant that we go to a lot,” Williams explains with a seemingly earnest sense of wonderment. “As long as we had some cash on us, we’d buy some. I was fascinated with this idea: What’s this person’s life like? I think we can gain something from different people in different ways that we might not realize. It’s kind of philosophical.”

Elsewhere, Williams allows groove (“Convince Me”) and growl (“Buttercup”) and seeks resolution both in shadows (“Ugly Truth”) and shade (“To Be Loved”). At all times, crisp imagery (“Don’t Know How You’re Living”) and sharp narrative storytelling (“Soldier’s Song”) fortify the critical and peer praise she’s earned steadily since 1988’s equally buoyant self-titled collection. (Remember, Time magazine did name Williams our best songwriter a decade ago.)

“I treasure Lucinda as a songwriter and a performer,” iconic rocker Melissa Etheridge says. “She has a handle on the pulse of where rock and roll comes from. She’s on the edge and wild and wicked, a purist who hasn’t once sold out for anything.” “I love the way she writes,” echoes soulful singer-songwriter Amos Lee, who enlisted Williams for the duet “Clear Blue Eyes” on his recent chart-topping “Mission Bell.” “I’ve probably listened to her song ‘Little Angel, Little Brother’ a thousand times. (As a songwriter), that’s the kind of song that colors the edges of what you do.”

Williams supplies inspiration at relative light speed these days. Notably, she’s produced five studio albums since the millennium’s turn, as many as she cut in the previous two decades.

“I’ve been pretty prolific as of late,” the notorious perfectionist says. “Something just clicked on. I’m always coming up with ideas and jotting lines down. I save everything and put it in a folder. Some people are real disciplined and get up every day and try to finish a song a day or a song a week. I don’t put that kind of pressure on myself. At some point, they’re all going to be there.”

Take note: They’ll be in Austin later this month when Williams brings the new collection to the Lost Highway Records 10th anniversary showcase at South by Southwest (March 18 at ACL Live at the Moody Theater). “I love South by Southwest,” she says.

“I think I played at the first one. It was, of course, a lot smaller and focused on local and regional artists. Then it started growing and growing. I tried to go around to all around to see all the artists that I could (early on). Over the years, I realized that I can’t do that anymore. You’ve got to pick one or two a night.”

http://www.ottawacitizen.com/Lucinda+latest+just+lukewarm/4388804/story.html

Lucinda’s latest just lukewarm
Williams at her best on sad songs
The Ottawa Citizen
March 5, 2011

Blessed ***

Lucinda Williams (Universal )

You’d have to feel like a bit of a jerk for suggesting Lucinda Williams is at her best when she suffers for her art. Everyone deserves happiness, especially someone who has already cried so many rivers, lakes and seas in her songs. And yet, the highs and lows on Blessed reinforce the impression of the country-rock icon as someone who has more to say when weeping than when smiling.

Consider Sweet Love, whose singsong lilt doesn’t offer much more than the platitude of its title. Then consider Copenhagen, whose pensive guitar backs a complex internal dialogue filled with confusion, grief and a graceful eulogy for a loved one.

Similarly, Born to Be Loved — a dusty blues that doesn’t get far beyond bland reassurances — evaporates on impact, while the suicide song Seeing Black can’t be dispelled. It’s significant not only for the most blazing instrumentation of any Williams track since Real Live Bleeding Fingers and Broken Guitar Strings, but for a lyric that’s furious without being judgmental of someone who checked out far too early.

Incisive lyrics are the norm for Williams, but are an unfortunate rarity on Blessed, in which list-like repetition is favoured over piercing confessionals or narratives. Williams has built some first-rate songs on a catalogue of lusts ( Essence), put-downs ( Come On) or quests ( Joy), each line adding to the one before until the desire or anger or desperation becomes overwhelming. On much of Blessed, though, the lines simply add up to the same point being hammered over and over: the title track’s many (many, many) reasons to believe in humanity’s virtue; Awakening’s visions of future strength; the litany of devotion in I Don’t Know How You’re Livin’, whose cumulative effect isn’t as potent as Williams’s heartbreaking reading of the simple closing promise, “I’ve always got your back.”

Indeed, it’s Williams’s voice — and her wondrous ability to sound simultaneously lovestruck and wounded — that ultimately sells many of these tracks. Once the recurring juxtaposition of killing fields and suburban gardens loses its impact in the slow-motion Soldier’s Song, her weary delivery continues to carry a tragic yearning for home. And Convince Me — yet another composition with a simple premise and simpler lyric — surges forward as the titular plea becomes increasingly urgent, rising along with the intensity of a circular guitar lick.

Listeners who found West (2007) too dreary and Little Honey (2008) too raucous may be happier with Blessed’s middle ground. Sonically, this is a warm album. But emotionally, it’s too often lukewarm. Copenhagen and Seeing Black once again prove Williams’s gift for elegant or raw writing in the wake of grief; if she continues to be drawn away from the darkness, perhaps she’ll find equally strong inspiration in the lighter side of life on the next album.

Jordan Zivitz

Read more: http://www.ottawacitizen.com/Lucinda+latest+just+lukewarm/4388804/story.html#ixzz1FkRX1671

http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/arts-and-life/entertainment/music/117457788.html

Winnipeg Free Press – PRINT EDITION

New Music / Lucinda Williams / Blessed (Lost Highway)
By: Staff Writer

Posted: 03/5/2011 1:00 AM

NOW that 58 year-old Grammy winner Lucinda Williams is happily hitched, one might worry that she’s lost her fire.

Relax.

Sure, the title track slowly builds to a triumphant climax seeking out the beauty in the people amongst us; however, Buttercup, featuring Elvis Costello on guitar, is a solid middle finger from Williams with the lines: “You already sucked me dry, I can’t do it anymore/Honey you roughed me up and made me cry, now you wanna borrow money?” She extends that digit again, attempting to understand suicide on Seeing Black, a track that showcases some incendiary fretwork. Soldier’s Song respectfully contrasts daily life in the killing fields with that of those back home.

Overall, Blessed is more subdued than 2008’s Little Honey but it’s easily as powerful and possibly more so, as the potency surfaces in the hushed moments as the gorgeous blues-tinged guitar gently whispers above the subtle flourishes of pedal steel and accordion, contributing to yet another haunting collection from Williams. 4 stars

— Bruce Leperre