Concert review: Visceral veteran Lucinda Williams still a crowd-rouser

By Bob Mehr

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Lucinda Williams didn’t require any buildup or big introduction as she took the stage for a sold-out show at the newly opened Midtown performance space, Minglewood Hall, on Tuesday night.

If the venue itself seemed a work in progress — the sound, lights and sightlines were fine; the homey touches have yet to be applied — Williams is not.

At age 56, the veteran roots songstress sang and played with a confidence that was well-earned, as she delivered a wide selection of songs from across her 30-year career, aided by her powerful backing band, Buick 6.

On this Fat Tuesday night, Williams, a Lake Charles, La., native, draped the microphone stand in Mardi Gras beads and summoned both the swampy sounds and besotted charm that have become her stock in trade.

Clad in a buckskin jacket and red pants, the raven- haired Williams cut a striking figure. Although she showcased several songs from her latest and, frankly, somewhat underwhelming LP, Little Honey, the more impassioned moments came as she worked through a series of story songs: a tender reading of “Drunken Angel,” her tribute to the late Texas songwriting eccentric Blaze Foley; her stark suicide narrative, “Pineola”; and the rambling anthem, “Side of the Road.”

Williams also offered a couple local tributes of sorts with a Johnny Cash-flavored version of “Happy Woman Blues” and a rare rendering of her Sweet Old World gem, “Memphis Pearl.” (“It’s been a long time since we played that one,” beamed Williams afterward to an appreciative, almost rowdy, crowd.)

Though heavy on highlights, the show was not without its flaws: there was some excessive blues jamming better reserved for the tourists on Beale Street, and in general Williams’ set list seemed to sag in the middle, as she went from dire to dirge, before ramping up for a strong finale.

Still, it was hard to resist the sultry charms of “Essence” — the slow-burning title track of Williams 2001 album — which segued nicely into a Rolling Stones-styled take on “Out of Touch.”

The most charged moment came with “Real Live Bleeding Fingers and Broken Guitar Strings,” and though the song was written in tribute to alt-rock icon Paul Westerberg, it could’ve easily doubled as an apt metaphor for Williams and the visceral quality of her concert on this night.