It may be fair to say that until Victoria Williams got sick, few people had heard of her. Although her fan base included Lou Reed and the guys from Pearl Jam, Williams' quirky, homegrown music had gone more or less unheard by the public. When she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1992, those musicians and others recorded "Sweet Relief," an album of Williams' tunes, to help pay for her medical expenses.
Six years later, Williams is still plugging away. She is currently touring in support of her fourth studio album, "Musings of a Creekdipper," which was released in January of this year. From the summery imagery of "Periwinkle Sky" to the ruminations on death in "Blackbirds Rise" and Grandpa in the Cornpatch,""Creekdipper" holds a rare view of life that is indicative of Williams' frame of mind.
On the phone from a tour stop in New York, Williams' voice was weary, but full of sweet stories and optimism. At once she embodies the innocence of childhood and the awareness of someone who has travelled the world, seen tragedy and found hope. There aren't too many folks like her.
Q: How is the tour going?
A: Well, it's interesting. Every night something different, and it's been a lot of fun so far. I have such a good time that I don't realize when I'm suddenly exhausted. My father used to say that my mother just "goes-goes-goes-goes and then drops." And I think maybe I've inherited that because of what happens to me.
Q: What kinds of interesting things have happened on the road so far?
A: Well, it's kind of like a different conglomeration of the band. First we were all there, in Atlanta, played three shows and then (bassist) Joey (Burns) and (drummer) John (Convertino) had to leave because they were playing SXSW. So then we played a few shows where we had to get used to no drummer. And then (Jon) Birdsong, the cornet player, found a snare, I think in a pawn shop or something. So we were kind of rockin' along and then suddenly -- oops! -- the bass player and drummer are back.
And now the keyboardist (Tim Ray) is really sick. He had to stay home for a while. He's going to fly to Toronto and meet us there. I used to play piano all the time, so I think it's good in a strange way for him to have been good. Keeps my chops up. But he missed the New York show, and I know it was on -- the email? -- no, some sort of computer. People could hear it all over the world if they wanted to.
Truck stops are really fun. I like exploring truck stops. There's all kinds of interesting things.
Q: Like what? A: Well, I found this kind of Augie bear, and another girl bear. And then at the next place that I stopped there was this big yellow and white cat in a car. He was going up against the window with his paws like, "rrreeow, rrreeow," so I got Augie out, and talked to him through the glass. I figure I'll give Augie to my new niece that's in Minneapolis.
I've noticed at some of these -- I don't know what you call them, they're all along the freeway and there are a lot of little eating places inside of one building. And gosh, this last one -- you could get vegetable juice, which I thought was a big step in the right direction. So I feel like, if they get some soy burgers we'll really be on the right track.
Q: How's your health?
A: Kind of ragged. But I seem to be able to suit up and show up. That's good. I know I get super-exhausted. Sleepin' in the car helps alot. I know I'm going to sleep well in this hotel room. I got a quilt, a nice ol' quilt. Like a blankie.
Q: Tell me about your interest in creek dipping.
A: Oh yeah, I've just been notating where there's good creeks. It's too cold right now. When you're travelling and sitting so long, it's good to get out and do some stretching.
Q: Do you have any recommendations?
A: Well, I can't speak for any of the creeks I've been notating today. In California, when you're going up the eastern side of the Sierras, there's some creeks up there. There's this one that's hot springs that's been torn up by an earthquake 'cause it used to be a professional dipping place. Now you can get right down to it. Two springs have to converge, 'cause if you're just getting one, it's too hot. Boiling hot. You could cook in it, it's so hot.
There were some in Canada, some great hot springs between Quebec and Montreal. There's some interesting animals up there too. They come right up to your car. There are these deer with really long furry antlers, and you can feed 'em and pet 'em. And they have pigs, buffalo, bears...
Q: What was the inspiration behind some of the songs on the album?
A: There were a lot of different inspirations on there. "Allergic Boy" was like the trials of growing up, and there's "Grandpa" -- the trial of letting go. Then there's "Let it Be So," just kind of a celebratory scene. I wrote that for my sister's wedding. They pretty much speak for themselves, I guess.
Q: Was making this album different than making the others?
A: Working with "Train Song" was great. Working with Wendy and Lisa, that was great. I was stretching out, wanted to use a loop, and I thought "why not call up some gals that use loops a lot?" And they're just such proficient musicians.
Q: You have this really positive outlook in your songs. Is that something that was always a part of you, or something that came to you?
A: I came to it at some point. 'Cause it makes me feel good to sing 'em. I put out songs that make me feel good. Generally there's tragedies in a lot of 'em, but they kinda reach for what goodness that can be garnered from whatever situation you find yourself in. I'm sure it's kind of like that.
Q: Were you a happy kid, growing up?
A: Yeah. You know, it's funny, I just played a concert my mother was at. It's only the second time they've ever seen me play, and my mother and father drove out from Louisiana to Atlanta and saw the show. We went out to breakfast the next morning, and my mama was telling Mark (Olson, Williams' husband) that I was always a happy kid. And then she said, "Well, at least until you were a teenager. Then you were a terror."
My mother had nervous breakdowns a lot when I was growing up. If I'd gotten a big whoopin' from her, she would go back in her room and start crying because she felt so bad about giving us a whoopin'. And if she was going to be crying, I always would start crying, going "Don't cry, mama." I couldn't stand to see my mother crying. And so I guess I was kind of empathetic and sympathetic kind of little kid.
Q: Sounds like you still are.
A: Got to get better at that empathy. I have burdens that make me feel that everybody's got burdens. That we are all a mess. (laughs)
This article was originally published in the San Francisco Chronicle.