Published on Nov 2, 1999
Most any musical artist today will scowl when someone tries to
peg their style down to a particular genre. Can you imagine asking
Prin…URHHH… “The Artist” about if the new album will be his
typical R&B stuff, asking Tool how it feels to be such an
innovative heavy metal band? Or asking Lucinda Williams why she
hasn’t broke it big in the “country” market?
Lucinda Williams is a near legendary singer-songwriter known for
taking about a half-decade to make each album. Too unconventional
to fit into the new country flock and too roots oriented to cross
over into adult contemporary, Williams is burdened by her greatest
gift: her songwriting.
So, you can’t really blame her for trying to get a little karma
from the contemporary country music explosion of the early 1990’s
with her album,
Sweet Old World. After all, Garth Brooks was breaking the
sales registers, people were doing the “Achy Breaky” and hoot
skooting to the local country swing bar.
Sweet Old World sounds more polished than her 1988 major
label debut. And
Sweet Old World had what it took to get to the top of the
country music charts: she had a pensive ballad to hook in the baby
boomers (“Prove My Love”) and a playful ditty that would go great
on the dance floor with “Lines Around Your Eyes.”
But she was still Lucinda Williams. The opening song, “Six
Blocks Away,” opens with a lovely visual play on a guy who works at
a donut shop who is lovelorn. But don’t awwww…yet. By the end of
the song, we see the person walking erratically down the street and
avoiding contact with other people. By the end of the song, we’ve
got a clear cut stalker as the center of attention of the song.
Another raw song, “Pineola,” tells the story of a little girl
who is coming to terms with the suicide of a family friend. Her
heartful lyrics feel as raw as a sudden dust storm. “Born and
raises in Pineola / His mama believed in the Pentecost / She got
the preacher to say some words / So his soul it wouldn’t be lost,”
it’s an unforgettable lyric.
Those who love Bonnie Raitt should by all means pick up
Sweet Old World just to hear the blues shuffle of “Hot
Blood.” Another ballad, “Something About What Happens When We
Talk,” stand up with some of Raitt’s best work. Again, her barren
delivery of lyrics like, “Conversation with you was like a drug /
It wasn’t your face/ so much as it was your words.”
For songwriters, Williams is a great example of how someone can
be a great songwriter by using simple words and phrases. Only
problem is that for every brilliant writer like that, there is
about 1,000 bad poets who are trying right now to find the right
rhyme for “beer” or “irony.”
Lucinda Williams got even better with her craft with her
excellent album,
Car Wheels On A Gravel Road. True,
Sweet Old World stands as a class by itself, but it seems
that sometimes Williams’ true self shines in half of the brilliant
songs and the two or three commercial songs in it feel like she was
forced to put them on just to move some copies at the record
stores. But heayah, if there’s any artist out there that deserves
to make a comfortable living by writing great songs, it is
certainly Lucinda Williams.