Car Wheels on a Gravel Road - Williams, Lucinda (CD 1998)

Southern culture, with imagined memories of god-fearing salt of the earth people, has always been a mystery to this psuedo-sophisticated upstate NY boy. Sure, I d observed odd behavior at roadside exits off 95. Hotel owners and souvenir stands from Maryland through Georgia all had their charms, in a watered down lets please the Yankee tourist kinda way, but I never felt I truly understood. I tried grits and way too sweet iced tea, battled bugs the size of a baby s arm and bought fireworks. I spent time in West Virginia and mingled with shopkeepers, truck drivers and the landed gentry; always trying to find that special something that would feed on my false feelings of superiority. But as I got older, my cynicism waned and my sincerity grew in direct proportion to the quality of Pavement records. I no longer viewed the South as a backwater cultural wasteland and my mind started to drift to juke joints, Sun Studio, the King Biscuit Flower Hour, Nashville, Graceland (the place not the record) and the very real/imagined breeding ground for my life s passion, Rock and Roll. By 1998 (Brighten the Corners, I think) Ms. Williams released Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, her masterpiece and probably the 90s musical high-water mark, at exactly the right time for me to realize what it s all about. I think I finally get it.

The record was 6 years in the making with a whole lot of reported record company pressure. Rumors of scraped producers and session men abounded and expectations grew but Ms. Williams seemed resolute in her desire for perfection. Sonically the record is flawless and was obviously worth the wait. The snare cracks, slide guitar moans but it is her voice, which has never sounded better and justifiably takes center stage. The sh-t hot band never overshadows her but always enhances that voice. With slurred esses and brilliant alliteration, she yearns, drawls and testifies like some Holy alliance of Al Green and Hank Williams Sr.. Absolutely perfect!

"On 2 Kool 2 Be 4-gotten", Lucinda juxtaposes the real and imagined southern city, No dope smoking, no beer sold after 12 o clock/Rosedale, Mississippi, Magic City Juke Joint/Mr. Johnson sings over in a corner by the bar/Sold his soul to the devil so he can play guitar . Lucinda is both trafficking in the realities and myths of the south here. Mr. Johnson represents blues great Robert Johnson, visionary blues guitarist who legendarily exchanged his soul for miraculous guitar prowess. The Magic City Juke Joint represents the very real clubs in which country blues and the very pre-modern tradition of drinking letching and lying continue to this day. The stereotypical Southern Baptist, whose strong faith allow for snake handling, appears. He says it will not hurt him, more myth perhaps? Although the songs ends with a very real relationship and the leaps of faith needed, she had a lover you see and she thought she was his valentine. He asks if she will jump in the water and she says, that s your own death you see . Perhaps Ms. Williams is maintaining the reality of her surroundings, she will not succumb to the myth and mystery of her surroundings.

Music and place is always referenced with memories of loss and longing. "Car Wheels On A Gravel Road" uses Loretta Lynn and Hank Williams Sr. as reference points to her nomadic lifestyle, as a child and then again later as a traveling musician. Traveling by where cotton fields and telephone poles stretch for miles and miles, country music providing a fitting soundtrack.

Though "Drunken Angel" is probably one of the most beautiful songs I ve ever heard. It s the story of her brother, so I ve read, and his immense promise as a songwriter and musician who wastes his talent on booze. She yearns and pleads with him all for nothing. He lets it get away and it goes too far and he ends up getting blown away. Her vocals never sounded so tortured and beautifully cracked.

Lake Charles and Greenville both set my mind reeling with memories of lost love and visions of future travels. Thus they never sound maudlin or depressing, she infused sincerity into this postmodern ironic heart. I ve seen the light.