CD: Lucinda Williams

Lucinda Williams skriver om dagligdagse hendelser, men gjør det så utsøkt coolt:

You can't depend on anything, really
There's no promises, there's no point
There's no good, there's no bad
In this dirty little joint

No dope smoking, no beer sold after 12 o'clock
Rosedale, Mississippi, Magic City Juke JointMr. Johnson sings over in a corner by the bar
Sold his soul to the devil so he can play guitar

Too cool to be forgotten
Hey, hey, too cool to be forgotten

Musikken er så nedstrippa som denne typen helt-nede countryrock skal være. Hun synger behagelig halvarrogant, og låtene hun signerer varierer mellom det langt over middels bra og det fullstendig suverene.