West Words

http://www.democratandchronicle.com/article/20110304/LIVING/103040312/1032/LIVING/What-our-critics-listening-to

LUCINDA WILLIAMS: BLESSED. She comes out harsh on the opening song of her new record: “You roughed me up and made me cry, now you wanna borrow money,” Williams sings. But she’s soon hanging with a better class of people; even the man who’s shot dead in “Soldier’s Song,” confessing, “I can’t look my enemy in the eye.” There’s assurance in Williams’ words, yet vulnerability and uncertainty in her languid, sexy Louisiana voice. At times she sounds like someone awakening from a dream. As always, Williams opens a few veins for us. But some of her raw emotion is good raw emotion: “There will never be a kiss like your kiss.” — JEFF SPEVAK

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.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.