Don't cry no tears for Lucinda Williams

You are road-tripping with some friends. You just walked into some dive bar in Nowhere, Mississippi. As you sit down at the bar, you notice a woman and her band playing quietly in the corner. Nobody's paying attention, but you're drawn in by her world-weary lyrics and those pretty songs. You have stumbled upon Lucinda Williams. The daughter of Miller Williams, President Clinton's 1997 inaugural poet and an English professor at the University of Arkansas, she has once again nailed southern Americana with music that combines small elements of folk, blues, country and rock into a cohesive package. True, this is not a party album. Only two of the 13 tracks would even be considered mid-tempo. The rest are glacial in tempo but warm in emotion as she is able to use simple words to describe mournfulness (there's much good pedal steel guitar here) and the longing for passionate kisses. Sadly, Lucinda has been so highly regarded there's been a backlash against her for one of two reasons: Either she's too much of a critical darling or we just take her for granted. To me, though, Lucinda is what you should graduate to after your fill of Bonnie Raitt. Enjoy your trip.