With the eminent status she has achieved in American song Lucinda Williams could not be blamed for coasting a bit. Much time has passed since the two decades of largely unheeded obsessive perfection that predated her late-90s breakthrough. How fortunate that "Blessed" finds her lyrical and melodic powers at their zenith. Fresh, blazing inspiration is especially evident in spite of her droll, cool-as-cucumber delivery.
The tempo is subdued, but not in the vein of "Essence" or "West," which were immensely tortured and soul-searching by comparison. A decidedly less precious approach to the songs' overall execution plays to their strengths because Williams' outlook, while still immense with thought and world-weariness, is less clenched and more relaxed. Clipped, factual acceptance is therefore fitting in its thematic dominance.
"Buttercup," one of the few upbeat selections, does not set the stage with its classic rock feel and almost boisterous sense of levity as Williams criticizes a former flame in a nonetheless dignified manner. Its chorus is ingratiating with full throttle guitars and percussion. "Seeing Black," written for Vic Chesnutt, does not cast judgment on the troubled singer/songwriter's suicide but scratches the wounds of those left behind. She probes his motivation with a series of unanswerable questions amid searing guitar work from Elvis Costello.
The shrewdly observed, expertly executed title track finds affirmation in unlikely places - "we were blessed by the neglected child who knew how to forgive/we were blessed by the battered woman who did not seek revenge" - and exemplifies Williams' signature incisive simplicity, the backbone of her talent. It informs more than a few songs here, also among them "I Don't Know How You're Living," typical of her slow-burning, marinated, downbeat best. Her vocals wrench as she contemplates what has become of a former love without any bitterness or self-pity - just acceptance of what has happened - and declares her continued good will.
"Copenhagen" is lullaby-like and huggably warm as it offers an olive branch to an estranged friend, while "Born to Be Loved" is deceivingly simple as it insists upon its title phrase. "Soldier's Song" comes from the perspective of a departed serviceman and the family he has left behind. Her sparing matter-of-factness maximizes the songs' effectiveness.
"Awakening" is a swirling, epic tour de force with deadly serious percussion and guitar work. Her vocals, hanging loose and icy in the mix as she repeatedly declares her intentions to accept the unchangeable are bone-chilling in their funereal restraint amid the song's topsy-turvy arrangement - and appropriately so, since the song is a death of sorts in its resolution to put an end to habits that, for more than half a lifetime, have proven unsatisfying.
"Kiss Like Your Kiss" with its summery, meditative imagery sounds like a safe haven in the storm as it waxes love and comfort. It is the most resolute, unambiguous closing track of Williams' career.
"Little Honey" had many incredible songs, but it was more a hodgepodge than a fully focused, clearly inspired album. "Blessed" is a welcome return in that regard. Her major artistic assets are in full evidence, but she also demonstrates a personal growth that provides a unique listening experience from those she has previously offered, all the while matching the quality of previous albums that cemented her reputation such as "West" and the evergreen "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road." "Blessed" is destined to join that much-lauded company.
