Lucinda Williams walks onto the Lensic Performing Arts Center stage tentatively Wednesday night, without an introduction and before the rest of the band, almost as if she's forgotten something. But the audience recognizes her, and shouts of "Lu" crisscross the venue. The band filters in, she steps to the mike and says, "This song is called 'Handful of Dust.'" ---
I text an update about the show to a country-Americana musician friend of mine, and slide my phone into my pocket.
The songs “Can’t Let Go” and “People Talking” follow, and without much in the way of explanations. Williams appears not to be much of a talker, which doesn’t bother me. Some people like for their musicians—especially an older musician, especially a country musician, especially in sit-down venues—to offer little anecdotes about themselves, perhaps the backstory behind a song. But, I’m not one of those people. And Williams isn’t one of those musicians. Perhaps she feels as I do that “personal connection” with the audience starts to feel a little too rehearsed.
Did I say “too rehearsed”? Around the time she plays “World of Tears,” Williams asks the audience to forgive her for using a “safety net” in the form of a book on stand that held her lyrics and possibly the music. The audience laughs; she keeps playing. First, “Are You Alright?” and then “Copenhagen.”
I check my phone to find that my friend, instead of being enthusiastic about my attendance at the show, had texted back “She was pretty rude at [Grand Targhee Music Fest]. Hopefully, she’s in a better mood.” I respond, “She just forgot her lyrics; but she otherwise sounds really good.” A verse or two into “Copenhagen,” Williams had flipped the page of her book to find the next page missing.
The band continues playing, like they don’t know what else to do. Williams yells at them in the mike, and finally a road manager comes out, and they decide to move on. “People think I’m neurotic anyway,” she says into the mike. “This is called “Born to Be Loved.”
The track is easily my favorite off Williams' latest release Blessed, but I'm still thinking about the few minutes before the song, and how they confirm for me the charm of her music. She seems authentically herself in her voice that's always a little bit off, in her compositions that aren't quite melodic, in her lyrics which aren't quite tender or revealing and in her country sound that meanders in and out of the blues without really committing to rock. She's a beautiful loser like Townes Van Zandt, whom she identified as such along with Blaze Foley in the introduction to "Drunken Angel"—by this time she begins to offer some banter—and like her I mean beautiful loser "in the best possible way." Her music feels like I do sometimes—that none of my efforts matter to anyone but me, but "Damn it, what else am I going to do?"
The feeling continues throughout the evening with covers of Bob Dylan's "Trying to Get to Heaven" and the Allman Brothers' "Ain't My Cross to Bear," as well as "Righteously," which I can only describe as a kind of country rap, and a new tune she's working on—"I've been doing a lot of writing lately" she says—called "I Need Protection." It's a bluesy piece that, like Williams, tries to howl, but calls for help instead.
Follow Matthew Irwin on Twitter: @mji76
