Lucinda Williams

Lucinda Williams' World Without Tears opens with a note of tremolo guitar. For a fraction of
a second it hangs there, like water waiting to drip from a faucet, unfinished but perfect.
"Fruits of My Labor," the song that follows, is languorous, unadulterated soul. Brushes circle
a snare head, and the bass takes its sweet time; Williams' drawl, scraping the high notes,
summons the spirit of Otis Redding. "Tangerines and persimmons and sugar cane/... More >

Like Dylan before her, she discovers how hard it is to write the simple ones. She also discovers how hard it is to turn out an album every two years. So she stops at pretty good songs instead of worrying them toward great, and just in time. Concrete nouns are her passion, but here sometimes they break the mood, and when she pulls out her place-name trick she goes nowhere. To compensate, she sidles up to her beau ideal--a band record, a groove record, a riff record; something lowdown, dirty, smoky. Why not? Sue Foley has never recorded a lyric as strong as "Those Three Days" or "Sweet Side" in her life. And a strong Sue Foley album can hold up the sweet old world for a spell. (Grade: A-)