Lucinda Williams has always been defiant, and at times downright obstinate, always outspoken. We haven’t heard a full album from Lucinda since 2015 so it stands to reason she’s got plenty to pour out, as she does here on Good Souls Better Angels. This time it’s not the typical narrative autobiographical path she’s stamped as her signature for most of her career. Gone too is the experimental instrumentation with Frisell and Leisz (and they were great!), choosing instead to return to her early blues-based raw sound to deliver frank and honest commentary on a myriad of social and political issues, while weaving in hope too.
On the topicality of the material, recorded, of course, pre COVID-19, Lucinda says, “…Basically, the world’s falling apart -it’s like the apocalypse. That’s where that Old Testament stuff comes from. It’s different from my other albums in that there aren’t the story songs about my childhood and all. It feels exciting.” She points to four influences in this dark material – Robert Johnson. Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and Nick Cave. Listen carefully though and you’ll find themes of perseverance, resilience, and hope.
Williams has been touring with Charles Lloyd and the Marvels and with her band in the past year on the string of sold-out shows for the 20th Anniversary Car Wheels on a Gravel Road show. For this effort she has reunited with long-time Steve Earle co-producer and engineer Ray Kennedy who helmed her breakthrough album 20 years ago. Her husband, Tom Overby, contributed some lyrics and served as co-producer, making Lucinda especially proud. “that’s what I always dreamed of – a relationship with someone I could create with, “she says. She attributes the seminal idea for “Man Without a Soul” and “Big Black Train” to him, and he co-wrote nine of the 11 songs. Williams wrote “Wakin’ Up” and “Bone of Contention” herself while Greg Garing wrote “Down Past the Bottom.”
Williams recorded with her road band – Butch Norton (drums), Stuart Mathis (guitar) and David Sutton (bass). Her uniquely Southern voice was once described by an L.A. Times writer this way, “She sings in a lazy voice that sounds, not unpleasantly, like a chair being dragged across a wooden floor” and by a fellow singer-songwriter as “capable of removing the rust from a chrome bumper.” Her voice retains those qualities but there are songs where she’s smoothed out the edges somewhat. That, with the raw instrumentation framing it, makes this one of her stronger vocal outings.
The opening raw blues “You Can’t Rule Me” sets the tone for the album. There’s no sugar coating her approach. She moves next to the heavy barrage of news on “Bad News Blues” and gets more into a soul-based approach for the scathing “Man Without a Soul,” where it’s no mystery who she is singing about, as Mathis delivers tortuous guitar lines. She addresses the pain of depression on “Big Black Train,” memorable for its repetitive chorus as Mark T. Jordan joins the quartet on organ. She conveys a women’s harrowing escape from domestic abuse, punctuated by Mathis’ scratchy, washboard-like guitar lines in “Wakin’ Up.”
The haunting, gothic “Pray the Devil Back to Hell” nods to Johnson and that mythic deal at the crossroads and has one of Mathis’ most piercing guitar solos. “Shadows & Doubts,” with its mellow backdrop, and Jordan’s organ again is a powerful outcry against fickle social media which is often too quick to judge and convict. “When the Way Gets Dark” is a counterpoint to “Bad News Blues” with its optimistic viewpoint, Lu’s most tender vocal, and Mathis’ shimmering melodic playing. Williams sings “Don’t give up/Take my hand/You’re not alone.”
The mood changes dramatically for the angst punk-blues shouter “Bone of Contention.” The invocation of the devil returns in the hard-rocking “Down Past the Bottom” with Mathis again providing distorted guitar fury. “Drop by Drop (Big Rotator)” has some of the best wordplay as Beat poetry merges with hip-hop and Biblical lines as Kennedy employs effective echo effects. “Good Souls” is the deeply moving, gospel hymn-like tune that closes with one of Lu’s best vocals and an inspiring message – “Keep me with all of those/who help me find strength/when I’m feeling hopeless/who guide me along/And help me stay strong and fearless.” These are words for our troubling times.
Lucinda Williams has been with us now, believe it or not, for 40 years. As she says, “It’s all come full circle,” describing her return to the gritty blues she began with. It’s the right choice for these powerful messages, be they angry or hopeful.
2 Responses
Hi. Very fine review. But how many stars?
The score of the album.
Best Regards.
Henrik Sorensen
Thanks Henrik. We actually did away with our star system several months ago because we felt placing it on the top of reviews creates a pre-conceived bias, whether good or bad.