Cutting up the Lucinda Williams Experience / 14 November 2012
Lucinda Williams performed old songs, new songs, covers, her songs, herstory at the London Jazz Festival in the Royal Festival Hall on 11 November
Take the image, steal the vocal, remove the backing band. All that is left are the songs and moments captured from the lives they reflect on. It is the easiest thing to tell you how much the words of Lucinda Williams mean to me, how real they seem, but that just leaves hagiography. So take the lines that spoke loudest to me - the ones that crashed into the times I'm living, cut them up like Burroughs, change only tense and pronouns and reconstruct an edited Lucinda Williams experience.
Paradise is lost to a place where the wild things grow. Times are harder than they've been before. I wanna see what it feels like to be without you. Blessed, we slept together. I got what I deserve. Kissed your tears through the gloom. Kissed you hard. Why do you have to be a source of misery. You weren't born to be a slave, to be mistreated, to be misguided. Now every day your memory grows 'til branches bend and fruit falls to the ground. I may never see your face. How does misery know which door to walk through. I can't find my joy. I want it back.
I heard a rumour you were born to be a friend of mine, baby, sweet baby, shot your love into my veins. How does trouble know which mind to live inside when I can't find heaven and you can't see me any more nor see where I go. Bitter memory knows not how to forgive. I don't think I'll miss you much. I'm glad you stung me, honey bee, showed no mercy. We were blessed by the neglected child. I wanna know she's there but I wanna be alone. I pick up a handful of dust and don't get right with god. Well it's over I know it. Go away. I can't let go.
On my front door, essences to beloved. She was cast out of heaven. Do I want too much. Am I Born to be forsaken. Don't bother me. I won't cry a tear. You can't trace my past when I loved you and stood for you by the moss on stone. How this sorrow found a home. We were blessed, before each reaped the pain I don't know what all right means. I don't fight for the prize. You changed the locks I don't know how you live, waiting for your essence, let it fall on my grave. I 'm scared.
There are days I remember well, a place where I always used to go. Everything has changed and I can't let go. When daddy told me people collect door to door. I can't feel his love. It's been displaced We made quite a pair on the side of the road. By a tombstone? You can't find me anywhere sweet baby. I was wrong you're so strong. You had no right to take my joy It is my right to feel your breath Real lives, broken fingers and broken guitar strings I don't want you any more. You got a sense of humour though and I wonder if you're happy and content, To hear that would be hard.
I've tried to enjoy the fruits of my labour. Your gift. You weren't born to suffer. Even if you like to flirt with death; stay on the rock for something wicked this way comes. Ghosts in the wind. I took a bus, I had to go back to our house again as if trying to get to heaven before the door closed. I don't want to talk to anyone. Born to be loved, I'm working at the bar. I've got your sweetness, Joy, passionate kisses, waiting for your essence. They tell me everything is gonna be all right. Fruits Of my Labour.
Keywords: ,lucinda williams, cut up technique