Photo courtesy of Lost Highway
Lucinda William’s West is territory worth exploring

by LAUREN FULBRIGHT

With a line of vision sharply attuned to both the grit and subtle beauty of life, Lucinda Williams writes songs with a rare honesty. Born in Lake Charles, La., Williams is forever a product of where she comes from, and her music never fails to reflect her roots. Albums like her 1998 Grammy-winning Car Wheels on a Gravel Road have served to define the American Southwest, and it is often difficult to distinguish the landscape from the artist herself.

For those of you who think great female country artists are limited to the Dixie Chicks, check out a gifted voice that Time Magazine has called “America’s Best Songwriter.”

With her eighth studio album, West, Williams returns with 13 original songs that explore the harsh wasteland between love and loss. From the parting of a loved one to the death of her mother, Williams travels a terrain where change often plays the central character.

On tracks like “Everything has Changed,” Williams describes her disillusionment when she writes, “Faces look familiar, but they don’t have names. Towns I used to live in have been rearranged. Highways I once traveled down don’t look the same.”

Songs like “Fancy Funeral” grapple with the pain of death, while urging listeners not to waste their money on expensive goodbyes. On “Mama You Sweet,” Williams uses vivid imagery to paint a portrait of loss when she writes, “Ocean becomes tears that ebb and flow, over the lines in my face and the pain in my soul.”

While songs like “Rescue,” in which Williams says “He can’t rescue you, can’t pull the demons from your head,” describe the futility of looking for outside sources of salvation, Williams finds great strength in the power of her “Words.”

When describing her writing life, Williams writes, “You can’t kill my words, they know no bounds…They still remain my only companion, loyal and true to the very end. They’ll never ever completely abandon, ever give up the paper and pen.”

While songs like “Learning to Live,” in which Williams tells a lover that she is learning to live without him, may seem overly simple, the simplest things are often the most profound.

There are a couple of angry love songs, “Wrap My Head Around That,” and “Come On,” in which Williams uses explicit lyrics and tells an ex, “You weren’t even worth it, I’m sorry I ever flirted,” but for the most part, she chooses to stick to the high road.

On her title track, “West,” Williams further describes impermanence and invites the listener to “Come out west and see the best that it could be. I know you won’t stay permanently. But come out west and see.” It is an invitation worth accepting.

Top Downloads on West:
1) “Words”
2) “Rescue”
3) “Are You Alright?”