Lucinda Williams, Car Wheels On A Gravel Road (Mercury)
Much fuss has been made of how long Lucinda Williams takes to record albums. This is only her fourth album since her 1979 debut. But if none of her albums have any bad songs, then she ends up with more good songs than lesser artists who have released over a dozen albums. This is the type of country-folk that can so easily become overproduced schlock, dripping with trite lyrics and self-pity. Williams is a rare artist who seems invulnerable to such dangers. Her songs cover the familiar territory of heartache heartbreak and more heartache. Yet the storytelling is so compelling and vivid, you forget about cliches and become part of her world. You sympathize with her regret, laugh at memories and feel her pain. Amazingly, the years of reworking and re-recording these songs result in an effortless feel, as though the slide guitars and accordians are being played right on your back porch. Even if this rootsy music isn't your bag, it's hard not to fall for the lovely lilt of her Louisiana-accented voice. The appeal of perfect songs like "Concrete And Barbed Wire" is so universal that your grandparents might waltz to it while your tattooed punk-rock little sister cries to it. If she can top this songwriting, I don't care if it's ten years until her next album - it'll be worth the wait.
