Joy Williams finds quiet space for her music
Given the past 10 years of her career, Joy Williams could be forgiven for seeking a quiet space to call home.
Here’s a thumbnail summary of just the past decade for the singer and songwriter, which doesn’t even include the first portion of her career as a Christian pop singer: A decade ago she met another musician, John Paul White, and nine years ago they formed the duo the Civil Wars. That duo made a record in 2011, “Barton Hollow,” an unassuming folky album that sold hundreds of thousands of copies and won a few Grammys. The duo split, not amicably at all, then released its second record, which without promotion quietly disappeared.
Williams then moved to Los Angeles and resurfaced three years ago with her solo album “Venus,” which was not folky but rather a more pop-minded recording that reminded of Kate Bush. It peaked at just 71 on the Billboard albums chart.
So you can imagine Williams’ surprise that she’s singing songs from a new album, but one that hasn’t been released yet, and having fans belt out the lyrics right back at her.
“I find it fascinating, this amazing thing where they know the songs already,” Williams says. “Even before the record comes out, they’re
singing at the top of their lungs.”
That record comes out in the spring. It’s titled “Front Porch,” a title that conveys a simple homespun comfort on the surface, though a deeper reading underscores its threshold themes of coming and going, as Williams returned to Nashville and wrote and sang a set of songs about home and one’s ever-evolving relationship to it.
Many of the pieces to “Front Porch” were in place before Williams, 36, picked it as the title to represent the record.
“It’s the first thing I see when I arrive at my house, and the last thing I see when I’m leaving,” she says. “It represents this idea without pretense. Where your shoes are off. This welcoming spirit. Those themes were my guard rail, even before I wrote the song ‘Front Porch.’ ”
She describes a scene as she talks. Williams just got off a tour bus 30 minutes earlier.
“So the porch is the first thing I saw, which looks like a hurricane hit it, with toys everywhere, next to a rocking chair,” she says.
Her son, she says, is looking at her through the window and past the porch as we talk. And she speaks while carrying her infant daughter. Williams recorded “Front Porch” while pregnant with Poppy.
“So I keep coming back to this idea of the porch,” she says. “It feels like real life to me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The song itself was something of a dare made by her friend and collaborator, the songwriter Liz Rose.
“She has this salty voice,” Williams says, “and she said, ‘Well, have you ever written a song called ‘Front Porch’? Well, I hadn’t. And it’s funny how meanings in that title kept unfolding.” Williams will showcase some of the new songs Sunday at The Heights Theater, part of a short Texas tour.
So far Williams has released two of the songs from “Front Porch”: “Canary” and “The Trouble With Wanting.”
Those expecting sunshine and reflection on parenthood — back in the ’70s, it was called the baby album — are likely to be surprised. The early tracks released from “Front Porch” are informed by unease and agitation, the darker underside to parenthood.
“Canary” takes its title from the winged coal miner’s accompaniment. Without being politically partisan, the song frames Williams’ aspiration to be an agent of truth and clarity.
“I was captured by this idea of what one’s voice can really do,” she says. “Applying that to something that seems as small and insignificant as one small bird. It’s a blended metaphor. But I was intrigued by the idea of this small fragile bird telling the truth and helping these miners through their days. With everything going on in the world today, my voice feels small, but I still want to use it in a way that feels true and authentic.”
Williams’ vocal on the song reflects the assertiveness of its subject. A moment in its refrain finds her reaching high for a note and finding it.
“I was three months pregnant,” Williams says. “Fresh off morning sickness. And I remember vividly sitting on a stool, too tired to stand. And that made me think about what the song really represents: Show up and be who you are.
“Because of that, I can tap into the spirit of it every night. It’s not about perfection and hitting the note as much as it is about telling the truth.”
“The Trouble With Wanting” feels more haunting, though it was written with sufficient gray space as to be relatable to any number of terminated connections. Talking about the album, Williams references both her father’s death and also the end of the Civil Wars.
The song came from a late night session writing with her friend Natalie Hemby. “We were talking about longing, and how if you really want to access suffering, longing is a great way to do it,” she says. “So it touched on my professional life, personal things with my dad. But it also felt like opening into where I am now. I’m more able to accept and grin at the scars and bumps and bruises, but the real things, too: The lines on my face now, and these things I’ve fought hard for. There’s a beauty that comes from moving through difficult times. I’m on the other side and more at home with myself than I’ve ever felt.”