Lost Highway

Lucinda Williams’ new Blessed is living proof that an artist doesn’t have to suffer to maintain their edge.

Since 2008’s upbeat Little Honey let us all in on the fact that Williams was stone-solid in love, she married manager Tom Overby (holding the ceremony on stage at a September ’09 gig … then playing the encore) and seems to be enjoying her place in life these days. If you’re thinking that a Lucinda without a beat-up heart can’t produce the goods, you’re just plain wrong. Blessed is the work of a songwriter who’s free of some of the personal weights and chains of the past and is able to focus on more of the world around her. Here she takes on war (the ache of “Soldier’s Song”), the loss – both by sickness (“Copenhagen”) and suicide (“Seeing Black”) – of close friends, and, on the title track, the blessings of every day, both big and small.

Williams uses many of the same canvases she’s used in the past to paint her pictures (the blues of “Born To Be Loved”; the acoustic-based twang of “Ugly Truth”; the eff-you crunch of “Buttercup”) but the music sounds fresh, powerful, and full of life. Drummer Butch Norton and bassist David Sutton are the only holdovers from the core band on Little Honey, proving themselves to be up to the challenges of the varied moods of Blessed. (For instance, all the swoops and swirls of the guitars and keys on the Patti Smith-like “The Awakening” may help set the mood, but it’s Sutton and Norton who provide the song’s pulse and strength.)

The departure of guitar daredevils Doug Pettibone and Chet Lyster in the period since Little Honey left a big void to fill in Williams’ sound. Not to worry, though: when it comes to things with strings, Blessed is in good hands, courtesy of Val McCallum (both electric and acoustic, including some sweet slide) and the nothing-but-lovely pedal steel work of Greg Leisz (who also gets some 6- and 12-string licks in). Additional guitar squalls are supplied by special guest Elvis Costello. I know, I know – for all the man’s talents, I never think of him as a wild-ass picker, either … but one listen to the fierce Crazy Horse-style lean-into-the-gale of “Seeing Black” (in which Lucinda puts the questions to the late Vic Chesnutt) and you’ll have a new level of respect for Mr. Costello’s abilities.

In the end, I would submit the aforementioned title track as the summation of what’s right about this album. Williams’ lyrics are the purest of no-frills-but-plenty-of-soul poetry, delivered in her distinctive drawl:

We were blessed by the mystic
Who turned water into wine
We were blessed by the watchmaker
Who gave up his time
We were blessed by the wounded man
Who felt no pain
By the wayfaring stranger
Who knew our names
We were blessed by the homeless man
Who showed us the way home
We were blessed by the hungry man
Who filled us with love
By the little innocent baby
Who taught us the truth
We were blessed by the forlorn
Forsaken and abused

We were blessed
Yeah, we were blessed

There’s a sweet/raunchy juxtaposition going on with the music during the verses – think the Stones’ “Winter” perhaps – lovely Nicky Hopkins-style keys by Rami Jaffee weaving with the guitars while Norton and Sutton lay down a foundation that makes your hips sway while your heart sops up the words. The music builds ever so slowly – you don’t even really notice how things are gathering steam until Lucinda steps away from the mic around the 4-minute mark and lets the band go. They soar – they truly do: McCallum and Leisz are all over and around each other as Jaffee lets loose with big Hammond swells against little cascades of piano; Sutton pumps the emotions up as he works his way up the neck of his bass; and Norton rolls and tumbles underneath it all, bringing the song to a smoking, chest-heaving finish. As the amps’ last growls fade, you realize it’s been almost a couple minutes since you last heard Williams’ voice, but the ride you’ve just taken has firmly imbedded her words in your heart and soul: blessed, indeed.