The Texas Track I Played 100 Times Over

It had been a long time since a song had stopped me dead in my tracks. I was on Instagram, mindlessly scrolling (as we all do, every night until we fall asleep). Usually, I keep the sound off. I don’t want to hear influencers telling me about their morning routine, but luckily, my sound was on. My friend Shaad D'Souza posted an Instagram story in January at a small but packed show in London. It was an artist named Jess Williamson, on stage alone, with a guitar and an iPhone playing a drum beat. The song was called “Time Ain’t Accidental.”

I was somewhat familiar with Williamson from her collaborative album with Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield under the name Plains. Still, I had admittedly not taken the time to explore her solo work.

That was a mistake. Once I finally dove in, I listened to the title track, “Time Ain’t Accidental,” a hundred times in a row, something I always do when I fall in love with a song. It played from my MacBook Air speakers in the morning while I sent emails, in my AirPods on the treadmill at Equinox, and in my car stereo driving through Los Angeles. I learned every word.

When I was younger, I would pour over lyric sheets and liner notes, searching for meaning during those critical adolescent years when you are discovering yourself. Some were better than others, but it helped me understand what I liked and what resonated with me.

Nowadays, I just want a great chorus with a melody that holds my attention. I think society has moved past lyrics, which isn’t totally a good thing. Excluding some outliers like Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo, modern music is more about “vibes” than actual content. We don’t sit down and listen intentionally like we once did; we listen passively as we do other things, trying to optimize every second of our days. A great melody can catch your ear, but great lyrics stick to you and make a song truly meaningful.

“Time Ain’t Accidental” has excellent lyrics that force you to pay attention and consider, but the way Williamson sings the words is what makes the song special. She stretches her syllables and lets you know she hails from Texas.

She makes a meal of the word “experimental,” giving it a noticeable drawl. The stand-out line “I read you Raymond Carver by the pool bar like a lady” refers to the American writer. It is a true story about reading his short story “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” while spending time at the pool bar of the Hotel Saint George in Marfa, TX.

There are precise references to rental cars, escaping to Mexico, oral sex, and a possible affair. It’s captivating, and it had me contemplating what it all means. When I love a song and wear it out, I learn the lyrics and sing along, but rarely do I consider what they mean. But with this, I want to know what happened. I want all the sordid details to understand the players and their motivations and to know if Williamson is still making the trek from Los Angeles to Marfa. Is her heart broken, or is it full?

When a song grabs you, take the time to explore it and breathe it in. You will be happy you did.