We know now that Lucinda Williams is one of the most strikingly potent songwriters and performers of her era. But it was a long time coming before Williams earned the recognition that she deserved.
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Her album Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, released in 1998, set the alt-country world ablaze and finally delivered the renown that Williams’ talent had long deserved. The title track, a profound testament to the power of memory, was one of the songs that got her there.
“Road” Weary
Perhaps realizing that her moment had arrived to either wrest the attention of the music world in her direction or else risk letting it slip away forever, Lucinda Williams wouldn’t cut Car Wheels On A Gravel Road loose until it was just the way she wanted it. And even then, record label machinations held it back for a while.
Williams recorded one version of the record with guitarist Gurf Morlix as producer. Unhappy with the finished result, she shelved it and went back to square one, working with Steve Earle and Ray Kennedy. Earle, an Americana legend in his own right, clashed at times with Earle, but they were able to settle at least on the basic tracks.
Still, Williams didn’t feel satisfied with how her vocals sounded. That’s when she brought in Roy Bittan, known as the keyboardist for Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band. Other instrumentalists entered the picture, such as Buddy Miller, who added mando guitar and vocal harmonies to the track “Car Wheels On A Gravel Road”.
The album finally arrived in 1998, more than three years after she began recording it. But the finished product betrayed none of its chaotic origin story. It propelled Lucinda Williams, almost two decades into her recording career, to the top of the singer-songwriter ranks in a flash.
Examining the Lyrics of “Car Wheels On A Gravel Road”
The title track features Williams reminiscing on her youthful years, which she often spent in transit. She and her family followed her poet/professor father to various employment opportunities. Her memories all coalesce in the unmistakable sound and feel of the family car traveling on unpaved roads to get to their next destination.
Williams does an amazing job within the song of mixing sharp details with emotional observations. The sights and sounds are vivid right from the first verse. “Sittin’ in the kitchen, a house in Macon,” Williams sings. “Loretta’s singing on the radio/Smell of coffee, eggs, and bacon.” You are right there in that house with her.
Occasionally, Williams writes from the perspective of her parents, such as the verses where they’re futilely searching for car keys or warning the young child to keep her room clean. The child watches it all and doesn’t miss a thing: “The telephone poles, trees, and wires fly on by.”
Later in the song, the adult grown from the child refuses to put on rose-colored glasses about her past: “Could tell a lie but my heart would know.” In perhaps the song’s most moving moment, Williams takes a telling snapshot of that little girl: “Little bit of dirt mixed with tears.”
In interviews after the fact, Williams admitted she didn’t necessarily realize she was writing a kind of memory play until her father, upon hearing the song, apologized to her. “Car Wheels On A Gravel Road” skips easy nostalgia for an honest look at how difficult past times can be just as formative as happy ones.
Photo by Larry Marano/Shutterstock
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