Fruits of my labor: A conversation with Lucinda Williams
Lucinda Williams will play Asheville May 14.
Mark Seliger photo
Lucinda. Before I even need to explain anything about people and things, time and place, you already know who I’m referring to. This is sacred musical ground, the same realm where, if you’re the cream of the crop, you only need to be known by one name, the same territory that Willie and Waylon, Dolly and Loretta reside. Simply put, Lucinda Williams is pure melodic gold.
Truth be told, you cannot categorize Lucinda. And nor should you. She represents all that is genuinely beautiful and truly righteous when it comes to the universal sound that is music. She’s the entire tapestry of American music (rock, blues, country, folk, gospel, roots, etc.) and does it with such ease and finesse that can only be attributed to being a kind soul in search of the truth, the way of what it means to be a songwriter of solidarity in often troubled, confusing times — yesterday, today or tomorrow.
Catching up with The Smoky Mountain News before she hits the road for a nationwide tour on the heels of her latest album, “World’s Gone Wrong,” Williams, now 73, spoke about the state of modern society, what it means to be an eternal optimist, and how her songs aren’t as dark as you think.
Smoky Mountain News: Just listening to the lyrics in the new album, the same thoughts were running through my head, trying to keep my head above water, but looking at everything like, “What the hell is going on?”
Lucinda Williams: Yeah, I know. And that was that period; it was Trump’s first term in office, and it was just the shock and awe of everything. Every single day, there’d be some crazy story in the news, either in the newspaper or on TV. I mean, it was just pervasive, in your face, and you couldn’t get away from it, really.
SMN: And I still feel that way, too. It feels like chaos is normal.
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LW: Yes, exactly. That’s it. You hit the nail on the head. Chaos is normal. That’s a great line. It just sums it all up in a nutshell. And that’s a scary thought when you think about it, living in a time where chaos is normal. It’s sad, actually. A hundred years ago, what would people have thought?
SMN: You grew up in a literary family (Williams’ father was a poet and college professor) and were exposed to folks in the 1960s counterculture. It would be the upside-down world to them if they were to see where everything’s gone.
LW: Oh, god. You don’t know how many times I’ll read something in the news and think about my dad. What would he think right now? And we sat around and talked about current events back then.
SMN: And when face-to-face communication wasn’t a lost art.
LW: Exactly. Thank you. Well, if you can even find someone to discuss current events with who’s actually been paying attention. People don’t keep up with it anymore. It seems like they used to.
SMN: Or they shut down in conversation.
LW: Or they shut down. How can you not? I saw something online that just popped up, a little piece of news that said Trump [would] defund Medicare and Medicaid to pay for the war in Iran. It was this little bitty piece of news that, back in the day, it would’ve been this huge headline and there would’ve been demonstrations out on the streets.
SMN: Do you remain optimistic at all?
LW: I do, because I can’t help it. That’s just in my nature. I have to, it’s a survival method, you know? I can’t let myself sink into oblivion.
SMN: I also believe that kindness breeds kindness, with the idea being that if I walk out with my best foot forward with optimism, then the hope is other people are doing it, and it adds up to something.
LW: It does. I love that you said that. That just makes me want to hug you, because I love that attitude. With my husband, Tom [Overby], [he] and I have been talking about that a lot lately ‘cause I get real grumbly and kind of moody and stuff sometimes. And he’ll say that “optimism heals.” Positive thinking, you know? Don’t even let anyone tell you you’re too idealistic. I’ve always been that way. I’m still that way, and I always will be no matter what age I am.
SMN: And I think it’s a testament to your music, too.
LW: You are right. That’s a really good point, because I’ve been accused of writing dark songs, my songs are “too dark” and all this. But, I don’t think so; I feel like there’s usually a light at the end of the tunnel.
If you pay attention to the lyrics in the title song, “World’s Gone Wrong,” it’s really kind of a love song. It’s about a working-class, everyday couple who’s trying to make ends meet. And they’re living in a world of chaos and it’s starting to affect their relationship. So, I don’t think it’s a dark song.
I mean, I like to deal with dark subjects sometimes, but that’s life, you know?
SMN: You talk about “World’s Gone Wrong” being kind of a love song. How has your definition of love changed or remained the same as you’ve gotten older?
LW: Oh, wow. I haven’t been asked that question yet. I got to think now, wait a minute. Good thing my tour manager brought me some Starbucks coffee.
I’m older, so I like to think I’m a little more mature now and have a more mature outlook on love. The relationship between two people and everything? These are things I’ve just learned from experience. It takes work. It doesn’t just happen on its own, by itself.
I still believe in the magic and power of true love, and I guess, for lack of a better phrase, love at first sight. Everybody always wonders about that. I think there’s something to be said for that.
But, once you get to the threshold, then you need to really buckle down and work on it. It takes thought. It takes commitment. [And] that’s where people go wrong, [they] sort of fall off the merry-go-round. To be committed is a lot bigger and heavier than people realize.
As far as love is concerned, you have to make that decision all the time. Every little disagreement, every little argument, every time you get off and want to leave and run away and stay at your friend’s house or something, you have to think, “Do I really want to break this off now? Do I really want to run away? Or am I committed to staying and fighting for it?”
You have to decide if what you have is worth fighting for.
Want to go?
Legendary singer-songwriter Lucinda Williams and her band will perform at 8 p.m. Thursday, May 14, at The Orange Peel in Asheville.
Doors open at 7 p.m. The show is for ages 18 and over. Admission is $39.50 per person. For more information and/or to purchase tickets, visit theorangepeel.net.