Lucinda Williams: A Folk Singer’s Heart and A Rock Star’s Swagger

With a folk singer’s heart and a rock star’s swagger, Lucinda Williams gets it right on World’s Gone Wrong. Produced by Ray Kennedy and Tom Overby and released January 23, 2026, the topical album shows no love for the current president; instead, Williams turns to the musicians in her band, R&B legend Mavis Staples, and even a Bob Marley classic to put her own beliefs front and center.

As protesters take to the streets across America, Williams is reaching people where they live by maintaining an impressive tour schedule, just as she’s done for the last four or five decades.

BGS caught up with Williams for an Artist of the Month interview by phone, in motion and outspoken.

First off, I just want to say I love the electric guitar on this record.

Lucinda Williams: Yeah, I’ve got two of the best in my band, Doug Pettibone and Marc Ford. Marc was in the Black Crowes before and Doug’s been with me for a while. The two of them just play off of each other. They’re really great when you see the band live.

Thanks for saying that. I’ll pass that on! I’ve always managed to find really good guitar players to work with me. It’s important to me, having a good guitar sound in the band, both live and on the record.

This record’s got that live energy, which is hard to capture on an album. What were the sessions like putting this album together?

Wow! You’ve said all the right stuff that I want to hear! I love you! [Laughs] But like you said, it’s hard to get the recording to reflect that. That’s why I’m so excited that came across, but I always record live for the most part. … We’re all situated in that part of the studio where we’re recording, but the vocals are isolated, just for the sake of convenience, so we don’t have to worry about the [tracking band] bleeding in, in case there’s a mistake. But it has that live feel, because we’re not putting down certain things and then coming in later. The drummer is not coming in separately and putting the drum track down, that kind of thing. We’re putting down the basic track all at the same time, together.

I would be playing guitar normally, but since I had my stroke about five years ago, I’m struggling with it. That hasn’t come back all the way yet, unfortunately. Which makes it even more challenging, because normally I would set up the vibe and the feel on acoustic rhythm guitar, and then the guys would follow me and fall in behind me. So, now one of the other guitar players has to fill in for me. And even though they’re both great guitar players, nobody’s going to do a rhythm thing exactly like I do. That’s a little bit of a challenge right now, but we managed to pull it off somehow.

You’ve had so many musicians that have worked with you over the years. When it’s time to hire somebody in the studio or in your band, what qualities are you looking for?

Probably just being aware of different styles of music. I can’t read or write music, so for me to have to discuss something to another musician, I usually use a reference of another artist. And I might say, “I want to play this song kind of like Clifton Chenier,” like a zydeco thing. And if they don’t know who that is, it’s hard for me to describe it musically. So, the easiest and best way is just [bringing up] the sound of another style of music and using an artist to describe that.

What was on your mind as you were writing the song, “The World’s Gone Wrong”?

Well, what do you think? What’s going on right now, every single damn day. There’s some other crazy piece of news surrounding the so-called King of the United States. Or he wants to be king. He wants to name the Kennedy Center after himself. That stuff builds up in your mind, and after a while it’s therapeutic to sit down and write a song about it. Just get it out of your system. … I just remember, every single day there’d be something on the news, in the newspaper, on TV or somewhere online. You couldn’t get away from it. It was pervasive. It was just on my mind a lot, of course, and still is.

This might be venturing out a little bit, but it seemed like a love song too, because these two people in the song are leaning on each other.

Yeah, I’m glad you brought that up. I’m glad you saw that in there. I think it’s an interesting way of dealing with the political unrest, by painting a picture of a regular, everyday couple and what they’re going through. So you can express it that way.

I’ll shift it over to “Low Life,” because I feel like I’m sitting at that bar with you when I listen to that song. And I also like those bars where you can be anonymous and no one really knows you. When you’re out on tour, do you look for places like that?

Yeah, the guys and me will look for a cool little place to maybe go hang out after the show. It’s hard to find one, though, where they won’t know who we are, because then they’ll want to come up and talk and stuff. A lot of times the guys will go somewhere and I’ll be like, “I want to go! Take me! Take me!” And they’ll go, “Lu, you’re not going to want to go, because it’s going to be swamped with fans and everybody’s going to want to talk to you,” and all that. Then I get all disappointed because I can’t go. [Laughs] So I’d just stay on the bus.

We end up hanging out on the bus more often than not. That becomes our little bar. I like to fraternize with the band guys after we do a show. I like to bond with them a little bit on the tour bus.

I noticed you’re going on the road with the band Heart in March. When that offer came through, what made you think, “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Well, turns out they were fans of my music, which I wasn’t aware of, and I guess their people reached out to my people… or my person [laughs] and wanted to take me out with them. Ann and Nancy Wilson are just two of the nicest people ever, real down to earth. We went out and already did some shows with them not too long ago. It seemed like with their fans and my fans, there was kind of an overlap there. It seemed to work musically as a bill.

I don’t think enough has been said about Nancy’s playing. I caught a documentary a while back on the music scene in Seattle back in the day, and with Heart a lot of people don’t realize they were there then, right when Nirvana was around. They were a little bit different, but I hadn’t realized how proficient Nancy was on the electric guitar and I was just sitting there watching it like, “Oh my God!” And Ann’s voice – they’ve got what it takes, that’s for sure.

You’re back out on the road, you’ve got this new album, and I’m sure there are a lot of other things in the works. What are you enjoying most about this stage of your career?

Being able to go out and do shows with artists like Heart. I got to go out and do shows with a tour featuring Bob Dylan and Van Morrison. I got to go out and do shows with the Allman Brothers. I’ve met so many fantastic, legendary artists over the years who like my music. And some might be a surprise. I was surprised, actually.

Like, Joey Ramone was a fan. David Byrne is a fan. Robert Plant is a big fan and I’ve done quite a few shows with him. So that’s been a big boost. Those probably have been the highlights of my career, being able to connect with those kinds of artists. The people I listened to when I was starting out and looked up to.

It was interesting to hear you include “So Much Trouble in the World” on this record. What did you like most about Bob Marley’s original version of that song?

First of all, I feel like that song was ahead of his time and it still rings true today. It’s still so fresh and could have been written yesterday. It’s still relevant. People still love the song. It’s got a great melody. Nobody can do it like Bob Marley did, though. I was a little self-conscious about that when we cut that song, because I was thinking, “What are people going to think? Me covering a Bob Marley song?” Like, “What does she think she’s doing?” But it’s a great song to play live. And like I said, it’s so much about what’s going on right now.

Having Mavis Staples on that recording is such a treat. What did she bring to the track?

She just added a whole extra level of soul, and thought, and everything. And we didn’t tell her what to sing or how to do anything. We didn’t give her parts to do or anything like that. We just showed her where the vocal booth was. You know, “Here’s the microphone,” turn it on, and she just let it rip. We’re so grateful to have her on there. And every single person I’ve done an interview with has mentioned her. Like, “What’s this about Mavis Staples on the record? How did you get her in the studio?” and all this. Everybody’s so excited to hear her on there.

I also wanted to ask you about “Too Far to Turn Around.” It feels like something we could sing at a protest march, but it’s kind of like a meditation, too.

Yeah. Thank you so much. I love hearing you say that, because that’s what I had in mind when I was writing it. Exactly that. I was thinking about songs like “We Shall Overcome” and everybody singing it together and holding hands. Because I experienced that myself back in the ‘60s. When I was a teenager, I used to go to all these marches and demonstrations. And music was the thing that kind of brought people together back then.

Those kinds of songs like “We Shall Overcome” were being sung and Bob Dylan was writing all those amazing protest songs like “Masters of War,” which I used to sing. I’d get my guitar, go to these things, and sometimes they’d ask me to sing. I’d do those kinds of songs, like Joan Baez and all. I mean, there was just a gamut of great folk singers. That’s what they used to call us! I kind of wish that would come back. Just call it folk music. The people’s music.


Continue exploring our Artist of the Month coverage of Lucinda Williams here.

Photo Credit: Mark Seliger

Artist of the Month: Lucinda Williams

Among the 78 bands performing for thousands of fans at San Francisco’s 25th annual Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, our nation’s foremost Americana festival, in October of 2025, one of the largest audiences had gathered for Lucinda Williams. She took the main stage in the afternoon clad in a leather suit, studs on the hem of her pants. The groove from the band and her lyrics landed with resonant pounding, like the drop of a heavy set of books on a table. After more than 50 years of performing, her sound still hits.

Lucinda Williams grasped brilliance in 1998 with Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, but this was not some isolated incident. She has pursued the craft of album-making expertly for her entire career, and fans flock to her because there is always something more to scratch up. The singularity of her writing rings at a higher frequency today in our shallow digitized world. I see her current position in our culture to be similar to that of poet-songwriter Leonard Cohen in his final chapter. When she sings, we listeners get to grasp at something real, and we crave what Lucinda offers; intimate corporeal love, the palette of Southern backroads alongside broken-down juke joints, honest bewilderment at the state of the world while still loving it.

When I was 26, I set out on a road trip to trace Lucinda’s origins. Being a songwriter, I wanted to determine what I could do to strive and bloom, like she did. So I left California driving my 1995 Ford F-250. From Texas to Tennessee, I dug up characters from Lucinda’s early days. I was most interested in finding people who had worked with her in the beginning of her career.

In Jackson, Mississippi, I spent a day at Malaco Studios where Lucinda made her first record Ramblin’ On My Mind. While listening to outtakes, I happened upon the first-ever originals she recorded but never released. In those reel-to-reel tapes that had been sitting untouched in a concrete vault, I heard a voice from four decades ago that was clear and bold. Wolf Stephenson was the engineer from that session and he told me that in 1978 Lucinda was a resolute and present woman: “[In] day-to-day life, she was just as footloose and like she was on stage. And really there wasn’t much difference in sitting here talking [with her] or being on stage, very natural.”

In Austin, Texas, I was shocked to learn that well-known guitarist Charlie Sexton had played with Lucinda when he was just 11 and she was 26. At the Hole in the Wall where a booker once cancelled Lucinda’s gig because there were “too many girl singers that month,” Charlie and I discussed how he has learned from Lucinda as a writer. He reflected on his early impressions of her and told me, “…There’s no doubt that Lucinda was always going to be unique… I mean, she’s like a regional writer in a way… she’s the Flannery O’Connor of that era of singer-songwriter.”

Lucinda’s parents raised her in an extraordinary community. Her father Miller Williams was a professor, a translator, and a poet. He and his wife were descendants of humble traveling Methodist ministers with meager finances, but by the time their first daughter Lucinda was a teen, the family sat in the company of Nobel Prize-winning authors. Miller’s genuine passion for literature gave him the conviction to invite figures like Charles Bukowski and indeed Flannery O’Connor into his circle of friends and acquaintances. He hosted literary parties in the family’s Arkansas home. After drinks were served, Miller read some of his new poems out loud, and a young Lucinda sat and strummed her latest songs. Writers of the highest caliber listened at attention. Some of these writers gave Lucinda feedback. Perhaps just as important was that these writers also imparted genuine encouragement to Lucinda and told her that in spite of all of the suffering and uncertainties involved in being an artist, it was still a worthwhile pursuit in life.

Along my road trip I also discovered how committed Lucinda has been to her art over the decades. I spoke at length with some of the musicians and engineers that worked on Car Wheels On A Gravel Road. I learned from Lucinda’s recollections that when you have that itching worry that a sound just isn’t right on an album, you have to wrestle with the process to find the right timbre, the right soundscape that will thrill you. I found that a songwriter has to embrace change, even if they’re unsure of the career consequences. I found that artists can’t just make the same album over and over again. Well… they can, but they probably shouldn’t. A songwriter has to keep seeking out that sound, that story that pulls at their soul’s musical corners, like Lucinda did.

Lucinda’s latest release, World’s Gone Wrong, is a continuation of the directness I’ve known her for. She conveys her truth with her language of simplicity. So often in our era, bathed in a slurry of news and trends, opinions from artists can feel glued-on. But that’s not the case with Lucinda. She conveys her frustrations with the state of the world from a genuine and honest place and, when she sings, I believe her. As with so much of her writing, in her latest album I feel like I’m reading a book, inhabiting the imagined place of the viewer and the subject.

The characters in Lucinda’s songs are alive, bleeding, imperfect, and desirously wanting. We benefit from the chance to continue paying attention to the words she writes.

If you’d like to learn all about how I retraced the roots of Lucinda Williams, check out Finding Lucinda, my podcast released in partnership with the BGS Podcast Network. You can also watch the documentary film Finding Lucinda on AppleTV, Youtube and more.

Stay tuned as BGS and Good Country celebrate Lucinda Williams as Artist of the Month throughout March. Enjoy our Essential Lucinda Williams playlist below and check out an exclusive interview with Williams here. Plus, we’ll be diving into the BGS archives for all things Lu and exploring our favorite covers of her songs by other artists, too. Follow along right here on BGS and on social media for more.


Photo Credit: Mark Seliger