Yikes! Lucinda really split herself wide open on this one. As a huge fan of her self-titled and "Car Wheels..." releases, I struggled with the nakedness of "Essence" and grew to love it. Again, with this release, I had a hard time getting through it the first time, but it gets easier with each listen. The lyrics are sheer poetry, albeit dark, painful, poetry. And Lucinda's delivery makes them darker and even more painful. I think a first-time listener might be turned off if this were their first Lucinda Williams experience.

My favorite song on this release is "Righteously". As I've played it, several people have stopped by my cubicle and asked, "What are you listening to? That song rocks!" Almost stripped down musically, it has a wailing guitar and strong bass line that moves the song along. The last line is my favorite - - "Be my lover don't play no game, Just play me John Coltrane".

"Ventura" has a beautiful steel-guitar, wavy-feeling kind of sound. "Real Live Bleeding Fingers and Broken Guitar Strings" (great title!) sounds very Neil Young-ish to me. "Overtime" is classic heartbreak, almost Patsy Cline-ish...the simple drum work and the verby guitar along with the simple lyrics work beautifully well together.

In most of her songs, Lucinda doesn't subscribe to the pop structure of songwriting - - stanza, chorus, stanza, repeat chorus, etc. Instead the songs are more like poems with wonderful music accentuating them. I can never decide if Lucinda's vocals are a strength or a weakness...they are often rough and "hick-ish", but they do add a substantial amount of depth to the words. While I can imagine a "better" singer singing them, I realize the song would lose so much of its impact if it were slick and smooth.

I think Lucinda has come to terms with never hearing her music played on commercial radio stations across the country. Still, and admirably so, she refuses to sell out her themes and her musical style for the spoon-fed masses, and instead brings out a different kind of honesty, a different kind of love, a different kind of relationship, those not usually revealed or acknowledged in the mainstream. We're talking about abusive and drug-addicted, twisted and unhealthy relationships here. There's not very much warm and fuzzy going on. Proof that angst is a wonderful catalyst for art.

Judging by the reviews listed before mine, I would guess that Lucinda Williams will never acheive mega-stardom. She just doesn't seem to care about making everybody happy.

Personaly, I find that WORLD WITHOUT TEARS is yet another in a series of outstanding efforts by Lucinda. It is about as different from ESSENCE as that album was from CAR WHEELS. ESSENCE, her last triumph, was a melancoly affair that found Lucinda loosening up her recording methods and vocals. WORLD seems to come from a more angry place is generally played loose and loud. ATONEMENT, BROKEN GUITAR STRINGS and RIGHTEOUSLY find her rocking more than she ever has on record. The "rap" numbers SWEET SIDE and AMERICAN DREAM sound a lot better than they look on paper (it's closer to talking blues than Jay-Z). VENTURA, FRUITS OF MY LABOR and the title track are just plain prime cuts that are more in the tradition of her earlier work.

For those who complain about her vocals, I beleive that they miss the point. Lucinda's vocals are similar to Bob Dylans and Neil Youngs. They are not the perfect pitches of a Star Search competitor, but a soulful instrument that uses timing and emotion to get a song across. Her vocals are first takes on this record and are certainly raw, but infused with passion.

This may, or may not be her best outing, only time will tell, but it certainly elevates her status as one of the finest musicians currently working.

Following Lucinda Williams' recorded career has been like watching an eclipse gradually cover the sun, as the brightness of her early material has been gradually supplanted by darker emotions and themes. Her best work has found a balance between the dark and the light, but World Without Tears finds Lucinda in full shadow, dealing nearly exclusively in themes of loneliness, addiction, abuse, and abandonment. It makes for grim listening, despite the rough sheen and passion of the live-in-the-studio music.

Williams, who once struggled for acceptance within the country establishment only to be adopted by the punkish alt.country cult, seems to actively work against any hope of radio airplay or mainstream popularity -- again dropping the f-bomb on the most radio-accessible song on the disc ("Those Three Days"), as she did on 2001's "Essence", seemingly *daring* any radio station to play it, and choosing oddball production tricks, such as vocal filtering and heavily echoplexed guitar. But despite a few graceless moments, the best songs here, including "Days" and the disc's opener, "Fruits of My Labor", retain the nuanced songwriting and expertly-shaded drawl upon which Williams made her reputation. Elsewhere, though, she too often lurches between a bellow (as on "Atonement", a gutbucket blues stomper that aims at Howlin' Wolf territory but hits Jim Morrison instead) and her Texas-flat speaking voice (as on "American Dream", a rap that takes the album's misery out of the first person and into the realm of social ills, with lyrics that even the most earnest early-80's conciousness-raising rappers would find hamfisted).

Musically, this is an adventurous and even brave album. Freed from commercial expectations, Williams and her band move easily between and around genres, evoking Crazy-Horse era Neil Young one minute and Hank Williams the next, successfully dabbling as far afield as hip-hop and ambient textures while never losing sight of the Texas soil that grounds it. This is a much more textured and musically expressive album than its predecessor, Essence, and as such should reward repeated listens. Yet even as the music draws one deeper the unrelentingly sad lyrics, full of vomit and desperation, repel. This isn't even the kind of sad album you'd want to put on when *you're* sad -- there is little resonance or hope of better days ahead here, just an extended tour of Lucinda's bleak psychic landscape.

I've been a Lucinda fan for a long damn time. I have to say I'm surprised to see so many fans not following (or appreciating) her trajectory into this one. I think it's beautiful and sad and groteseque and unflinching and mesmerizing. I knew that when people heard Sweet Side they'd think, "JEEZ... Rap?!?" First of all I'm not sure what's wrong with her doing rap if she wants to do rap. It's a form that focuses our attention firmly on the words and in the case of Sweet Side, I understand why she'd want to do that. But more than anything else, I'm bugged that people just don't get that the "spoken word" song has been with us for a VERY long time and that it is as appropriate in a the folk, blues, rock and country genres as it is in R&B. Doesn't ANYBODY remember Woody Guthry? Jeepers. Anyway. Amazing album. I'm hoping that Lucinda will ignore the naysayers and continue to explore what she wants to explore. I'll follow her.

For me, this CD is the emotional equivalent of the Andes Mountains; it's rugged beauty is breathtaking, albeit a difficult climb. Prior to this release my favorites were her self-titled album followed by Car Wheels and the grossly overlooked early-career gem "Happy Woman Blues," but on WWT, Lucinda goes where few artists do. Emotionally, this is kind of like John Lennon's "Plastic Ono Band" where with songs like "Mother," "Well Well Well" & "Working Class Hero" he delved into his personal psychology and let the rough side blare. Lucinda's power on this album might be best forshadowed by "Pineola" from "Sweet Old World" & "Joy" from "Car Wheels."

"Fruits of My Labor" is musically gorgeous, "Come to my world & witness the way things have changed." The urgency burns with the searing guitar solos on "Righteously," "Be my lover, don't play no game, just play me John Coltrane." "Ventura" seems dreamily romantic until it closes with "Lean over the toilet bowl & throw up my confession." "Real Live Bleeding Figers & Broken Guitar Strings" rocks vengefully somewhere between Sheryl Crow & the Stones. The CD's rhythm tenses and releases beautifully with "Overtime" hitting the softer side followed by the edgy "Those 3 Days." "Atonement" is razor blade cutting muscle like Lennon's "Well Well Well." "Sweet Side" is one of my favorite tracks with its talk-sing verses, soaring chorus & the reversal at the end from negative to positive. "People Talkin'" is a tune Hank Williams would've loved. "American Dream" makes me flash on early Patti Smith. The title track seems to tie the set together thematically, kind of a "greatest affliction is never having been afflicted" reality of what can be gained from pain or suffering. The CD concludes with "Words Fell," soft like a hug.

This is an important CD, one people will probably be listening to decades from now. Like all great art, one that gives us enough to relate to and enough to interpret. Bravo, Lucinda!