Carol Williams

Singer/songwriter Carol Williams gets into the nitty-gritty of our lives. Her music and lyrics are designed to get you thinking. And it works. Her folk songs take what we do with our daily routines and examine the quality inherent in that. She colors her songs with keyboards, flute and tenor saxophone as a one-woman band that lets the groove tell a story of its own. “Late Afternoon” represents an instrumental number in a contemporary format, while the rest of Williams’ compositions offer an emphatic vocal message.

Williams put in seven years with the U.S. Army band program, honing her skills as a powerful tenor saxophonist who gets noticed. As she wails on tenor to punctuate her vocal selections, you can feel the emphasis. Most of the instrumental coloring, however, comes from her surround-sound keyboard work. Each selection drives with a dramatic focus and plenty of soul. Williams cares about the stories that she tells and ensures that we’re able to feel the meaning as well as hear it.

Williams’ lyrics to “I Can Live With That” prove ironic. They form a message that applies to all of us. She sings about the demands that are sometimes placed upon us and how important it is to remain true to yourself. With this one, she colors with a sultry oasis of flute musings that fall gently on open ears. By combining meaty lyrics with a folk song environment, Carol Williams ensures that we catch her drift.
- All About JAzz

Chicago singer/songwriter Williams takes time out form her gig in Gary Sinise’s Lt. Dan Band to scratch her seven-year itch and deliver her third solo album in the last 15 years. She has a powerful, bluesy bellow, which she adroitly juxtaposes with her tender, lilting flute, serpentining sax, and rolling piano accompaniment. Intelligent lyrics castigate tendencies to pigeon-hole human into neatly compartmentalized categories (“The Category Authorities”) and hypocritical gangbangers and Presidents who wear crucifix necklaces, tattoos, and lapel pins and drive around with dashboard Jesuses while dressing like hookers on MTV, brandishing weapons on the dancefloor or sending kids off to wars and telling women what to do with their bodies. All of this is delivered in Williams’ twangy, Southern accent, sort of like a countrified Laura Nyro.

The multi-talented, multi-instrumentalist Williams blows a mean tenor sax on “The No-Bail Jail”) and side 2’s opener (and my personal favorite) “I Can Live With That”, with its wonderful, soaring, jazzy flute solos offer more introspective lyrics that relate the autobiographical tale of her integrity in refusing to sell out to commercial interests by writing, dressing, singing, and promoting herself according to whatever the current flavor of the week dictates. And while the sexy, saxy instrumental, “Late Afternoon” treads a fine line between jazz and New Age, I hear enough of a Gato Barbieri influence to toss a thumb up in Williams’ direction. One minor criticism: Mrs. Williams (her husband is fellow musician and co-producer, Kimo Williams) could use a bit of editing-several of the tracks exceed five and seven minutes, much longer than necessary to make their point. But she has a beautiful, crystal clear voice, and her lovely flute, sax, and piano arrangements offer the perfect backdrop for her honest, thought-provoking lyrics.
- Foxy Digitals

Carol Williams is an unusual artist in the best sense of the term. She is a white, female, jazz musician with attitude. She plays both tenor sax and flute and sings with a sassy and strong voice. Jesus on a Chain is an album title that makes you do a double-take, and the music contained within has the exact same striking affect.

Opener, “The Category Authorities”, digs right into the controversial subjects of politics, sex and religion. “If God is a white man, does that mean White Man is god?” she asks. She asks similar questions about sexual leanings by querying: “Who is straight, who is not, I don’t know”. This disc’s title track—which has a bit of a rock groove going for it—ventures into religious hypocrisy. The first verse talks about a man looking to score sex on the street. There’s a Jesus on his dashboard and Jesus on a chain around his neck, but fornication overflows his thoughts. The next verse contrasts the hottie, scantily clad girls in MTV videos, with the unfitting crosses around their necks and Jesus tattooed on their skin. Can one sell sex and Jesus at the same time? Williams is doubtful. The last verses are thinly disguised attacks on George Bush who, while claiming to be a Christian, doesn’t always seem to act all that Christ-like.

Williams is a feminine throwback to the great Most Allison. Granted, Williams doesn’t exhibit Allison’s superior keyboard skills. But her lyrical social activism is as enjoyable as “Everybody’s Cryin’ Mercy” and many other biting jazz commentaries Allison has made famous.

Let’s not forget Williams’ musicianship, either. “I Can Live With That” nicely matches Williams’ funky flute with Dave Onderdonk’s ominous guitar playing. Danny Gottlieb’s snappy drumming also stands out.

The CD ends with a song called “Is Anybody Listening?” and concerns troubling trends in feminine beauty. Terms like laser, scalpel, implant and plastic surgery are all peppered throughout it’s lyric. Let’s hope Williams doesn’t need to ask such a desperate question about her music. If you’re not listening to Jesus on a Chain, you’re missing out on a shining piece of musical jewelry.
- Indie Music .com

Chicago vocalist Carol Williams’ eponymously titled project is a refreshingly vibrant outing in which the singer’s composite evocation of Joni Mitchell, Rickie Lee Jones and Bonnie Raitt is refracted through compelling originals set-up with provocative titles such as “And Old Lady died today”, “Mystic March” and “Love is at the Kitchen Table”.

Williams is an original, a force cutting across all convenient categories. She’s also a convincing keyboardist, saxophonist and flutist. Really! And with inspired support from bassists Kimo Williams and Steve Rodby, drummers Mark Walker and Rick Vitek, and guitarist Rob Williams, the singer lifts her songs to a realm both rarefied and yet earthy.
- JazzTimes