Women make the world a better place

Women do make the world a better place in which to be a record reviewer. Otherwise, I’d have to listen to guys all the time, and there are times, many in number, when only the particular product of the female vocal chords will do. Three of them are discussed below. But I love them all. Except for Celine Dion.

LUCINDA WILLIAMS is a treasure. The trio of albums she released over a 10-year span, beginning with 1988’s self-titled record, continuing with 1992’s “Sweet Old World” and ending with the 1998 masterpiece, “Car Wheels on a “Gravel Road,” are among the most beloved and lasting recordings of their time.

Her simple directness, both in music and lyrics, strikes at the heart and mind with clear irresistible force. Her infamous penchant for perfectionism was blamed for her meager (in quantity only) output.

After “Car Wheels,” however, she has apparently conquered any reticence, putting out CDs every two years. They are all excellent but with less uniform greatness.

Judging from their subject matter, moreover, she has had mostly a horrendous bad streak with relationships. And when someone with her ability to connect emotionally gets sad, you’ve got a mope-fest on your hands.Well, Lucinda’s obviously got a new beau who’s rocking her world, because her latest, “LITTLE HONEY,” finds her rejuvenated and flush with grown-up love and get-down lust.

The disc roars out of the gate with “Real Love,” a randy love letter set to a slamming beat and crunching guitars. It’s a Lucinda we haven’t heard since “I Just Wanted To See You So Bad,” but one who’s not just yearning but secure.

She quickly establishes her calmer honky-tonk bona fides with “Circles and X’s” (still lovey-dovey) then delivers a gut-punch with the bluesy “Tears of Joy,” an ode to finding love after many dead ends.

It’s followed by the one song that doesn’t wear well, a preachy warning to the self-destructive, “Little Rock Star.” The sentiments expressed are as leaden as the pace.

Things pick up and never lag after that, with the startling “Honey Bee,” which gets all (literally) gooey with exuberance. Who knew she could be this goofy, and endearing?

“Well, Well, Well” and “If Wishes Were Horses” are two of her most country songs, with sturdy melodies and righteous feelings. “Jailhouse Tears” is great fun – she and Elvis Costello trading barbs and excuses in a time-honored conversation reminiscent of Tammy and George.

“Knowing” sounds like it could have come from her earlier “World Without Tears,” and it’s welcome here as a calm recitation of her hard-won knowledge from experience.

“Rarity” is another spine-tingler, eight minutes of building intensity that resolves on clouds of serene horns. “Plan to Marry” is stark and and austere at first, then resolute and affirming. The album ends with a cover of AC/DC’s “It’s a Long Way to the Top,” as audacious in execution as it is in concept.

To those Lucinda virgins, I must warn – she is an acquired taste apparently, since there are those few I’ve known who are immune to her charms. She’s got a twang that is undiluted. Once acquired, however, she is the treasure I spoke of above.

JENNY LEWIS has another gig as the lead singer of Rilo Kiley, a band who’s also worth your time.

She just released her second solo release, “ACID TONGUE.” It is much closer to her band’s style than her first album, which was a stately country-tinged affair co-starring the Watson Twins in bracing three-part harmony.

This one’s much more adventurous and even more rewarding.

She reigns in her habit of squeezing too many words into a line, which gets attention but annoys after a while. Instead, her more conventional songwriting here allows the songs to stand on their own merits without the verbal showiness.

She courageously but somewhat recklessly starts the album with probably two of the least catchy songs. “Black Sand” and “Pretty Bird” repeat their thoughts in circular fashion, and on repeated listens grow in stature with the knowledge of what comes next – back-handed compliments to be sure. But the album does pick up immensely when “The Next Messiah” drops, eight minutes of not one, or two, but three killer tempo and melody shifts.

“Bad Man’s World” is a soulful piano-driven song of warning, with aching strings enlivening the vibe. “Acid Tongue” sports hair-raising harmonies while it spits out its litany of regret.

“See Fernando” raucously lets Ms. Lewis get her rock on, and “Carpetbaggers” lets Elvis Costello make his obligatory appearance in his old-school persona.

“Godspeed” is all heartfelt sentiment, while “Trying My Best To Love You” sounds very ’60ish in a Jackie Deshannon kind of way. “Jack Killed Mom” is jaunty murder yarn, as toe-tapping as it is horrifying.

“Sing A Song For Them” ends the album on a note of grace, allowing for possible redemption for all manner of street folk, deadbeat dads and hopeless housewives and “weekend tweakers.”

Lewis’ voice is a marvel of girlishness and ballsiness. Her stature and maturity grow with every release, solo or group. So that makes this one very good, indeed.

ALYSSA GRAHAM is a chanteuse of the Norah Jones category, but she’s no imitator.

Her lover and collaborator, guitarist Douglas Graham, have crafted an album – “ECHO” – that seeks to flesh out the narrative tale of a (their?) love affair, with cover songs and those written by Douglas and the producer, Jon Cowherd.

Ms. Graham is apparently well-traveled, since her love story takes us to Brazil, India, Africa, and Europe, both in words and music styles. The accompaniment is lush and expert, but it’s her voice that’s the star.

Lush, ripe, soothing and still challenging, Graham’s voice is a companion that never wears out its welcome. Her emotion is never theatrical, but quietly authentic.

Standout tracks are the opening “America” (Paul Simon’s), “Arkansas” (a slightly up-tempo story of temporary strife), “My Love” (a proud declaration of her love’s sturdiness, with an erotic undertow). But the whole thing is heartily recommended for fans of quiet beauty, the kind with guts and real blood still very much present.