Lucinda Williams
Essence
Lost Highway Records

When Rolling Stone interviewer David Fricke recently asked Lucinda Williams when she knows "it's right," she replied "I cry."

That sentiment alludes to the bare-emotion momentum of Williams' new, heart-wrenching album, Essence. With its basic tracks recorded in just one week — a record for the perfectionist who took five years to make her 1998 Grammy-Award-winning Car Wheels on a Gravel Road — the album finds its way back to the artist's more intimate roots.

Since Rablin' on My Mind, her 1979 debut on Folkways, Williams has changed record labels repeatedly as she struggles for creative control over her small gold mine of music. With Essence, put out by Lost Highway Records, she again tries something new. And again, her soul-revealing creative vision snubs any pop-hungry producer.

"Lonely Girls," which opens the album, delicately uses carefully chosen phrases to convey the image of the ever-present girls of the title. Well-supported by its singer's own acoustic guitar, the song's lyrics, although sparse, are a testament to her master lyricist skills. Simple observations like "heavy blankets" and "pretty hairdos" slowly reveal the life of a lonely girl.

In the title track, a throaty, more powerful Williams emerges. Jim Keltner's percussion and Williams' guitar drive through the chorus, causing the album to reach one of its only moments of rounded, full, instrumental strength. This strength gives the somewhat sexy love song a sound that can be played in the car, with the top down and the wind in your hair. Unlike most of the album's other songs, which tend toward "to be played alone in your room."

"Get Right With God" is the album's other up-beat moment. It sports Williams in her Southern glory, playing off a gospel music template and commenting on the religious traditions of the South. A quick tour of dancing with snakes and sleeping on a bed of nails finishes with the punch, "If I give up one of my lambs will you take me as one of your daughters."

The album closes with "Broken Butterflies," rumored to be recorded in one take, no rehearsal. The hushed, dirge-like song closes the album as it opens, with beautifully reflected sorrow.

Essence finds Williams less twangy, but singing in the same raw tone. Her voice at times becomes strained and limp, as in "Blue." But this happens only in songs that feature a depressed mood, and the limpness arguably supports that mood. The album does not present a unified work, which causes songs like "Get Right With God" to feel stuck in amongst the others.

Yet, the album demands the same praise as Williams' last three recordings: lyrics that make the poets jealous, coupled with music from a perfectionist with a unique personality. And many will agree that they knew the songs were right when they cried.

— Paula Carter (pccarter8 at hotmail dot com)