It isn't surprising that
Lucinda Williams' level of craft takes time to assemble, but the six-year wait between
Sweet Old World and its 1998 follow-up,
Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, still raised eyebrows. The delay stemmed both from label difficulties and
Williams' meticulous perfectionism, the latter reportedly over a too-produced sound and her own vocals. Listening to the record, one can understand why both might have concerned
Williams.
Car Wheels is far and away her most produced album to date, which is something of a mixed blessing. Its surfaces are clean and contemporary, with something in the timbres of the instruments (especially the drums) sounding extremely typical of a late-'90s major-label roots-rock album. While that might subtly alter the timeless qualities of
Williams' writing, there's also no denying that her sound is punchier and livelier. The production also throws
Williams' idiosyncratic voice into sharp relief, to the point where it's noticeably separate from the band. As a result, every inflection and slight tonal alteration is captured, and it would hardly be surprising if
Williams did obsess over those small details. But whether or not you miss the earthiness of
Car Wheels' predecessors, it's ultimately the material that matters, and
Williams' songwriting is as captivating as ever. Intentionally or not, the album's common thread seems to be its strongly grounded sense of place -- specifically, the Deep South, conveyed through images and numerous references to specific towns. Many songs are set, in some way, in the middle or aftermath of not-quite-resolved love affairs, as
Williams meditates on the complexities of human passion. Even her simplest songs have more going on under the surface than their poetic structures might indicate. In the end,
Car Wheels on a Gravel Road is
Williams' third straight winner; although she might not be the most prolific songwriter of the '90s, she's certainly one of the most brilliant. ~ Steve Huey, Rovi
