Williams is on an exploration for ‘World Without Tears’

Lucinda Williams

“World Without Tears” (Lost Highway)

****

The tendency in commercial pop is to repeat what works, which is why many singer-songwriters would have followed an album as widely heralded as Williams’ 1998 “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” with more of the same finely crafted, country-folk narratives about loneliness and desire. “Truck Tires on a Two-Lane Blacktop”? “SUV Tracks on Thunder Road”?

Williams, however, used the energy and confidence she gained from the response to “Car Wheels” to make even better albums -- works that touch on new levels of emotion and craft. In moving from the formal storytelling approach of “Car Wheels” to more compact and personal writing on “Essence” in 2001, she shifted the instrumental tone to a slightly more pop approach.

Now, she takes off the gloves for a rock ‘n’ roll workout that at its most extreme edges is close to the raw, disoriented feel of the Rolling Stones’ “Exile on Main Street.” At its core, “World Without Tears” (in stores Tuesday) looks at heartache and despair that rest so deep inside that even tears don’t begin to ease the pain.

Williams (who performs Wednesday at Amoeba Music in Hollywood) wastes no time setting the mood. The first thing we hear on the album is a quivering note of tremolo guitar, maybe the most forlorn sound in all of pop. On the opening “Fruits of My Labor,” Williams’ voice feels more naked and raw than ever as she gives us a portrait of a woman who lives with velvet curtains on the windows to keep out the “bright and unforgiving light.”

The tempo picks up on “Righteously,” but the lyrics still speak of the search for some shelter in a stormy relationship. The fiery electric guitar underscores the desperation of the lyrics.

Still, nothing quite prepares us for the stark revelation of “Those Three Days,” which conveys the soul-jarring loss of confidence and self-esteem of being abandoned after a brief, rapturous affair.

There are moments on “World” that remind you of the gentle eloquence of songs such as “Blue” on “Essence” (especially “Overtime,” a ballad that Willie Nelson has already recorded) and others with the steadier narrative of “Car Wheels.” The heart of the album, however, is in the previously uncharted stretches of creative and emotional terrain.

-- Robert Hilburn

Mariachi heirs take own paths

Pepe Aguilar

“Y Tenerte Otra Vez” (Univision)

*** 1/2

Alejandro Fernandez

“Nina Amada Mia” (Sony Mexico)

***

Mariachi music isn’t what it used to be.

Up until the late 1960s and early 1970s, when these two singers were born the sons of superstars, this vibrant genre still dominated the pop charts in Mexico. But Aguilar and Fernandez came of age at a time when their urban peers were turning to rocanrol or orchestral ballads.

With few new stars on the horizon, the mariachi torch has been carried almost single-handedly by the heirs of singers Antonio Aguilar and Vicente Fernandez.

Neither son has the impressive power, personality or range of his father. But they have managed to fashion a distinctly urban style that owes less to their bloodlines than to the late Javier Solis, a pivotal figure in mariachi’s move from the countryside to the city.

These lovingly crafted new albums are excellent showcases for the modern mariachi -- sophisticated, smart and polished, even glossy at times. There are no songs here about favorite horses or revolutionary heroes.

Even machismo is mitigated by self-deprecating humor, as in Fernandez’s jaunty “Matalas” (Kill Them), which recommends kindness as the best weapon against coldhearted women, or “Que Valga la Pena” (Make It Worthwhile), which explores the stress of having a mistress and offers a twisted moral.

Of the two, Fernandez has a more dramatic and emotional voice. But Aguilar made the better album. While Fernandez continues his proven formula, Aguilar expands the genre, perhaps emboldened by his move to a powerful new label.

Aguilar’s repertoire includes the unexpected (Amanda Miguel’s “Mi Buen Corazon”), and the arrangements (especially by Fernando de Santiago) reach for the majestic. He also takes chances with two songs of his own, including the title cut, which charts new ground between traditional and contemporary.

-- Agustin Gurza

Not your typical TV soundtrack

Various artists

“Crossing Jordan” soundtrack (DMZ/Columbia)

***

Music is big in the NBC-TV life of medical examiner Jordan Cavanaugh, and this album goes far beyond most series tie-in sets in concept and care, with songs from A-list writers’ catalogs (Dylan, Waits, Hendrix, Reed and Lennon-McCartney among them) given shining interpretations by a roster of top-notch artists.

Series executive producers Tim Kring and Allan Arkush, album executive producer T Bone Burnett and producer Craig Street make no missteps in choices of songs or singers, including “Jordan” star Jill Hennessy making a strong recording debut on Waits’ “You’re Innocent When You Dream” and Dylan’s “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue.”

Sam Phillips’ vampy take on the Beatles’ “I Wanna Be Your Man,” Mark Anthony Thompson’s beautiful version of the Kinks’ “Days” and Alison Krauss’ understated heartbreak on Steve Winwood’s “Can’t Find My Way Home” set the tone as perfect pairings of artist and material, with most backed by a house band that brings both consistency and flexibility.

No less notable are Cassandra Wilson (sultry on Hendrix’s “The Wind Cries Mary”), Richard Thompson (a smoldering version of Donovan’s “Season of the Witch”), Lucinda Williams, the Holmes Brothers, Vic Chesnutt and Joe Henry.

The lively theme music by Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman and the old Rosemary Clooney recording “Black Coffee” make the perfect cappers for the collection.

-- Steve Hochman

Quick spins

BlueBob

“BlueBob” (Soulitude)

***

Film director David Lynch and his indie-rock guitarist partner, John Neff, call this “industrial blues,” an apt description for the guttural sonic atmosphere of distorted guitars, stark production and Neff’s netherworld vocals. Although some tracks drone on too long, songs such as the convenience-store-stop-gone-wrong “Bad Night” and the instrumental “Blue Horse” conjure up palpable fragments of L.A. noir with Lynchian dark humor, sexual intrigue and dire plot twists.

-- Natalie Nichols

*

Albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor) to four stars (excellent). The albums are already released unless otherwise noted.