Sweet Conflict
Lee Ann Womack's new album marks a stunning and subtle return to form
by Michael McCall
Lee Ann Womack
There's More Where That Came From
(MCA Nashville)
Lee Ann Womack stakes her claim with the sharp cry of twin fiddles that kicks off her new album, There's More Where That Came From. In modern country music, that's the equivalent of tying a work horse to a post in front of a home in a suburban subdivision. If traditional country music had a fight song, it would begin with two fiddles playing a sequence of high notes. Indeed, the closest qualifier, "Murder on Music Row," did kick off that way—and for a reason.
Coming from Womack, the message cuts through clearly: She's back where tradition-loving country fans believe she belongs. When she introduced herself in 1997 with the stone-country two-stepper "Never Again, Again," she became the darling of the purist crowd. Her first three albums sidled up alongside those of traditionalists like George Strait, Alan Jackson, Patty Loveless and Vince Gill in staving off the takeover of Music Row by pop-leaning modernists. That's why Jackson and Strait chose Womack to add harmonies to their rabble-rousing duet of "Murder on Music Row" in 2000.
But Womack also put out her best-known song, "I Hope You Dance," the same month that "Murder on Music Row" hit the streets. If her participation in the duet ruffled feathers, her soaring performance on the contemporary ballad smoothed them over. However, scoring big on pop radio as on country stations, "I Hope You Dance" united traditionalists and modernists through Womack's soaring performance, its poignant message and Mark Wright's subtle yet daring production.
To many traditionalists, though, Womack crossed too far over to the other side with her 2002 album, Something Worth Leaving Behind. Glamming up her image and flashing more skin, she went full-bore pop country with a densely layered collection full of crashing crescendos and crunching guitars.
Her timing was all wrong. Recorded prior to 9/11 but released in early 2002, the album came out as country radio turned to more traditional songs about faith, home and patriotism. The women who had been doing well up until then—Faith Hill, Shania Twain, Dixie Chicks, Jo Dee Messina and Womack among them—all saw their airplay diminish after 9/11. Had Womack maintained the down-home style of her earlier albums, she would have fit right in. Instead, her pop-country move reached radio just as that sound fell from favor.
The album wasn't as bad as its reviews or its reception suggested: her recording of Bruce Robison's "Blame It on Me" ranks with her best, while "You Should Have Lied" represents the kind of mature song at which she excels, and "He'll Be Back" is a gem of an old-school country ballad. Still, after I Hope You Dance sold more than three million copies, Something Worth Leaving Behind moved 250,000 or so.
But sometimes a big mistake puts an individual back on the right path. After taking a break with a Greatest Hits album, Womack restores her artistry, and likely her career, with the astonishingly good There's More Where That Came From. The opening title track, with its twin-fiddle salute, is a blatant cheating song in which a woman pledges to stop an illicit affair, but as soon as her suitor calls, she can't resist returning to his arms. When Womack sings, "My guilty conscience can't kill my heart's desire," she does so in the whispered tones of a confessional. But when she's talking to her man or begging God for help, she's crying out loudly, and in pain.
Womack's phrasing, the way she sounds conversational one line and blazing with emotional conviction the next, and the way she pleads for forgiveness on one verse then sounds caustic with self-loathing on the next, showcases why she is considered one of the most expressive female singers of her time.
She's like that throughout, schooling her over-the-top, rafter-shaking modern country sisters in the art of subtle interpretation. The hit single "I May Hate Myself in the Morning" is another outstanding cheating song, this one recalling the spare, rich musicality of Glen Campbell's great late '60s hits. With "One's a Couple" and "Twenty Years and Two Husbands Ago," she conveys regret and self-acceptance.
Not everything works. The lightweight, up-tempo "What I Like About Heaven" seems particularly out of place. The record's not all traditional, either. Two of the its weightiest tracks, "Painless" and "Stubborn (Psalm 151)," feature elegant strings and lean yet modern rhythms, and Womack wrings conflicted emotions from both.
Which is what Womack, whether working in a traditional or a contemporary style, does best—expressing the inner dialogue of someone caught in the middle.
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