‘Last Time Around’: The Buffalo Springfield album that left a lasting impact on Lucinda Williams
There’s something remarkably Proustian about how we navigate memory and its connections to music. Much like crumbs of madeleine dipped in lime blossom tea triggering a series of past moments, music can take us back to various times in our lives as if we were there once again. For Lucinda Williams, music is often as powerful as a time machine, casting her back to some of her most cherished – and troubled – moments.
Growing up, music was always there to soundtrack some of Williams’ most profound memories, even if she was less aware of it then. Although she always appreciated literature and poetry, she also did the things you might expect any young woman would do, like attend high school and enrol in university. During such times, she would listen to Buffalo Springfield’s Last Time Around and “smoke pot” with her friends.
This was also a time when Williams engaged in the political and physical act of protesting, finding beauty and solace in the idea of a better world where there were no more wars, and people could opt out of something if they disagreed with it. One such example was her reluctance to engage in pledging allegiance when it played on the intercom at school – an act that ended up in her suspension. “My dad begged me to stay out of trouble for the rest of the year,” she told Pitchfork, “but one day there was a huge march at school to protest racial inequality, and I joined it.”
Van Morrison would later validate Williams’ working-class mindset with references to being in a “pancake house” in ‘Snow in San Anselmo’, but Last Time Around already pulsated with significance. Although the various contributions and different mixing made Neil Young feel like the finished product was a little too much of a mess to enjoy, the lack of overall direction arguably contributed to its authenticity, as mirrored in the rawness of Williams’ high school years.
Not everything reflected Williams’ gravitation towards philanthropy and innovation, however. She fell in love with The Pretenders because they represented “straight-ahead rock music with great lyrics”. When she felt she lacked a clear focus, she listened to the radio more, discovering Sade in the process. Her ability to deliver a “smoky, creamy sound” felt refreshing despite others labelling her music as significantly overplayed.
Then, while discovering music she could relate to, Talking Heads captured her heart. During a time when it felt like the divide between punk and disco was growing larger, Williams felt indifferent towards both siloes, instead falling into Talking Heads and finding satisfaction in their alternative rock sound. “I was coming out of folk and psychedelic rock, so I didn’t grab onto it right away,” she said. “So when I heard Talking Heads, it was like, ‘Wow, this is something different.'”
Whether it was her mood that influenced her musical tastes or the other way around, the songs that made Williams speak volumes about her own inclination towards poeticism. Finding songs that resonate – and even say things in ways we can’t always find the words for – is true artistry. Much like Williams’ work itself, her favourite songs all had the ability to guide her, comfort her, and even champion her during her most pivotal moments.
