Music Review

West

West by Lucinda Williams, published by Lost Highway


LUCINDA WILLIAMS’s music is evocative in a way others can’t touch. It’s not only the fragility and ache in her voice but also her economy of language, with its declarative simplicity that cuts to the heart. A perfect album is a rarity, yet Williams has made two, her 1988 self-titled breakthrough and 1998’s Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. Wheels’ five years of sessions were torturous for this onetime Austinite, as was a 2000 New Yorker profile that portrayed her as a perfectionist frozen by her insecurities; though Williams now moves with greater speed and newfound confidence, the clichéd Nashville cats who have backed her of late seem clueless to her sensibilities. With WEST (Lost Highway), producer Hal Willner and musicians like Bill Frisell and Gary Louris right the wrong, and Williams—alternately longing, wistful, funny, and pissed off—turns in what is easily her most powerful work in years. With the mournful questions (“Are You Alright?” “Where Is My Love?”), the plaintive narrative of “Fancy Funeral,” the quiet despair of “Everything Has Changed,” and the come-on of “Unsuffer Me,” it’s more than easy to get lost in these masterful songs.

E-mail

Password

Remember me

Forgot your password?

X (close)

Registering gets you access to online content, allows you to comment on stories, add your own reviews of restaurants and events, and join in the discussions in our community areas such as the Recipe Swap and other forums.

In addition, current TEXAS MONTHLY magazine subscribers will get access to the feature stories from the two most recent issues. If you are a current subscriber, please enter your name and address exactly as it appears on your mailing label (except zip, 5 digits only). Not a subscriber? Subscribe online now.

E-mail

Re-enter your E-mail address

Choose a password

Re-enter your password

Name

 
 

Address

Address 2

City

State

Zip (5 digits only)

Country

What year were you born?

Are you...

Male Female

Remember me

X (close)