West

LUCINDA WILLIAMSWEST

If Bob Dylan is the father of Americana music (and pretty much every other folk rock sub-genre) then 54-year-old Lucinda Williams is the matriarch of the family. When Williams – the drunken-yet-spirited sort of mother – talks, her boys (Jay, Jeff, Ryan, Eef, Todd and cousin Connor) listen closely. When she sings, they sing along, take notes and hope that uncle Earle stops by for a jam or two. As a Valentine’s Day gift for all her lost loves and aspiring “boys” (Ryan Adams being the only member of both parties), Williams has released her eighth studio album, West, an all-too-long four years after, World Without Tears, her last love letter to the Western music world.

On the brink of a new millennium (not to mention after a six-year absence) Williams released her famously long-labored and now signature album, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, to an Americana scene seemingly ready to blow. That album, along with Steve Earle’s El Corazon, Whiskeytown’s Stranger’s Almanac, The Old 97’s Too Far To Care and Golden Smog’s Weird Tales had nearly everyone – even Rolling Stone – hailing the sub-genre as the “next big thing.” Almost universally considered to be the best of that classic crop, Car Wheels went on to nab a Grammy award and, more or less, set Williams up for a career of failed expectations. Rather than shy away from the no-win situation as so many in her position have done before (My Bloody Valentine and Neutral Milk Hotel, to name a couple), Williams has been more productive than ever before in her 28 year career. And this, her third album since the failed Americana push and Grammy award, is her longest, most rewarding release since turning off that storied, timeless gravel road.

Thirteen tracks and nearly 70-minutes long, West feels like a slow ride through Williams’ new stomping ground of Western America. Backed by a skid of busy multi-instrumentalists including Bill Frisell, Tony Garnier, Gary Louris (The Jayhawks, Golden Smog) and Rob Burger, Williams starts off her latest offering with the instantly classic “Are You Alright?” Playing perfectly into the mother theme, “Are You Alright?” is a mid-tempo, thick hustle of a song that explores longing and emotional distress, but but in a maternal – rather than lover – sort of way. Known as much for her drinking and hard livin’ as she is for her perfectionist approach to her craft and masterful songwriting, Williams at once seems both mature and timelessly hip – two attributes not known for holding hands. The next “hip” song, “Mama You Sweet,” also plays into the mature (motherly) theme, but really, there is no cohesive theme. West, just like all of Williams work, is full of longing and letdowns, hope and heroes, advice and questions. And, really, it’s her best-written and most varied album to date.

With peaks so high and often, yes, the slight missteps do stand out, lucky for us West only has three such songs. While most of the album is downright perfect, “Unsuffer Me,” “Rescue” and “Wrap My Head Around” – which is nine minutes long – lag, partially because the songs see Williams slightly experimenting with her surefire style, but mainly because the other 10 tracks are almost too good to believe. Speaking of “too good to believe,” the emotional “What If,” insightful “Fancy Funeral,” rocking  “Come On” and brilliantly written “Words” make up for any other missteps on West.

Just like Car Wheels, West is essential listening for any songwriter – be it Joe Jack from down the street or that cutie Connor Oberst – with any interest in folk, Americana, rock or country music. Released in the first few weeks of 2007, West’s 13 tracks – many of which are destined to be new Lucinda classics – set a very high mark for everything else vying for “Album of the Year” come December. This generally unhurried, Americana prototype-of-an-album is so well written, played and produced (Hal Willner) that it just might, in retrospect, have folks arguing its merits over Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. Yep, Lucinda Williams has finally released another album good enough to get the boys, critics, fans and nay-sayers talkin’ Americana again like only she can.  7/10

Written by G. William Locke