Lucinda Williams: Blessed But Still Searching

Anyone who's been listening to singer/songwriter Lucinda Williams over the years knows she cares about words. Each individual one, in fact. That's why she gets good-naturedly riled about the misinterpretation of the title of her most recent album, the unsurprisingly excellent, "Blessed."

"Writers have really latched onto that title, that word, as if the album is simply a happy one. Have they really listened to it? Man, there are some bleak songs on there. One is about suicide. I don't know about that word 'happiness' -- at least, the one-dimensional way people think of it. If I had my way, it would be torn out of the dictionary!"

Williams says all this with a certain amount of forbearance in her lovely, soft, southern accent, which softens the blow. She knows she is in a good place these days. She's married now to record executiveTom Overby, a man she calls her "soulmate." Her work is highly respected. But as pleased as she is, as well as she's doing, she knows that life is not merely "happy." In her own words, it's "light and dark," beautiful one minute, heartbreaking the next. So if you should meet Lucinda, try to use the "H" word sparingly.

Williams, perhaps the most acclaimed songwriter of the past 20 years, knows every bump in the road she's walked to get here. "Here" meaning The Wellmont Theatre, where she plays tomorrow night. It took time for her to find her wonderful, idiosyncratic writing style, the right label, that slightly-nasal, sweet snarl of a voice. It took time to find her audience.

She made two good, bluesy albums for Folkways in the 70s, gigged, waitressed, made superb records for labels that were one step ahead of the sheriff. And soon went out of business.

Then things caught fire. Williams' "Passionate Kisses," became a huge hit for Mary Chapin Carpenter. Tom Petty knocked her "Changed The Locks" out of the park. Then Williams herself, started a golden run of albums (beginning with "Car Wheels On A Gravel Road" in 1998) that can compare, in excellence and consistency, with Van, Neil, Bob, or her duet-partner and pal, Elvis Costello.

Her fans would kill for her. But mostly they just come to the shows and tell her they love her. Like the man she met the other night. The one suffering the effects of ALS.

"It was in Cleveland, after the show. This man was in a wheelchair, he could barely speak, but he had to tell me how much the songs meant to him. He couldn't really. But his 14-year-old daughter was with him. He'd whisper things to her and she'd tell me. I managed to keep it together and hug him and sign his poster. But when I went backstage I sort of lost it. It was so sad. And yet, this guy had an incredible attitude and had to come to the show. That was inspiring."

So much so that Williams understands why she keeps hitting the road.

"The next day, I just started writing some stuff about it. Nothing concrete yet, just bits and pieces, stream-of-consciousness. But I think it might turn into a new song someday."

She says she's got the road thing pretty much under control now, too.

"We'll be out for about 3 1/2 weeks, this leg," said Williams. "Then I get to go home for about a month. That sounds good, but then I have to do about 5 weeks straight after I rest up a bit. But, unlike the old days, I at least feel when I spend a few weeks at home like I've really been there."

She chuckles and mentions how much she likes The Wellmont. Or thinks she does ("I must have played there before. It's the only theater in Montclair, right?"). And raves about her band. Especially new 24-year-old guitarist, Blake Mills. "He's a prodigy. There's no other way to describe him."

She riffs about favorites like Paul Westerberg and JD Souther and jazz pianist, Thelonious Monk. We discuss mysterious southern chanteuse Bobbie Gentry and the recent diagnosis of Country legend, Glen Campbell, who is in the early stages of Alzheimer's Disease. Williams may be on tour, she's riding high and she's healthy, but she knows there are wicked turns for everybody riding the road. The real one, the metaphorical.

"Everybody has their stories. And it's not always the good stuff, the happy things you see on the surface," said Williams. "Still, even with the bad stuff, you really can feel blessed. It's just . . . it's not a simple sort of thing. You know?"

Lucinda Williams will be at The Wellmont Theatre on Wednesday, July 20. Opening is Amos Lee. Tickets are $40. The show begins at 8:00 PM. Doors open at 7:00 PM. For more information, call  973-783-9500