Considering the years between previous releases, Essence shot out like a bullet. Though her hand may always be on the trigger, Williams takes her time taking aim. On this round she explores how it feels to be lonesome, heartbroken, addicted, homesick, longing, and raging with desire. So while in theme not all that much has changed since 1998's Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, this record is a lot more laid back and euphonious without trading in her raw lyricism. Williams could certainly never be accused of being apathetic.
The record opens with the hangdog "Lonely Girls", a song that certainly outlines a major fear of the fairer sex. As for "Blue", well it's not something to beat to death describing. It's the blues! Let's just say her minimalist approach works.
The raw sexuality of "Essence", the title track, is what makes it bona fide. No one else could do this song without sounding cloying or deserving of a restraining order. In terms of obsessive desire, "Essence" is as unabashed as the Police's "Every Breath You Take" is haunting (obviously well before Sting's arrogance took over).
"Reason to Cry" sounds like a mournful Patsy Cline song. It's only a matter of time before some blond "country" singer covers and massacres it like "Passionate Kisses". Hopefully that won't be allowed.
The "pass the collection basket and then handle a serpent" fervor of "Get Right with God" is all about the righteousness of slide and rhythm guitars (Bo Ramsey and Charlie Sexton respectively). Meanwhile, nostaligia sits shotgun on "Bus to Baton Rouge". This is the loveliest song on the album. Since her images of and references to the South aren't contrived, it sounds familiar.
Essence is more subdued, but it's hardly dispassionate.
Lucinda Williams Essence
