“It’s about the talent, about the work. Thanks for letting me into the fold.” That career was jump-started, of course, in 1998 by “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road,” but the tide keeps rising. Williams – sporting a blond shag, dressed in a baby-doll tunic, jeans and a brown leather jacket – played a sold-out, hour-and-45 minute show. Her set drew from her latest effort, the mournful, pensive and often ambient “West,” but Williams didn’t emphasize it or even plug it. Before an encore of Skip James’ “Hard Time Killing Floor Blues,” she made a point of re-stating her influences – “Delta blues, country and folk – it’s all still there.” Implicit was this: Sure, on “West,” with Hal Willner’s production, she’d moved toward Marianne Faithfull/Lou Reed territory, but she retained her damaged alt-country/roots rock identity, too.
    She began with the soft sting of “Rescue,” about how a man could not fix this woman, but could “tie ribbons in your hair/And show that he’ll always care.’’ Williams – backed by guitarist Doug Pettibone, drummer Don Heffington and new bassist David Sutton – began in a quiet, seductive mode and pretty much ended that way, too. Call those literate, melancholic songs in the key of languid. Songs about loss, coping, wreckage. “Learning How To Live” was wrenching in both its pain and acceptance. “Essence” began with a plea for a lover’s dominance - “Baby, sweet, baby, kiss me hard/Make me wonder who’s in charge’’ – and ended with a plea for the lover to help her “get fucked up.”
      The rocking came during the mid-section where they closed in on a Neil Young & Crazy Horse vibe. (Her soundman, Mark Humphreys, is Young’s longtime monitor engineer.) A highlight here was “Come On,” described by Williams as “a take off on ‘70s cock rock,” and it was a towering guitar shredder of a song – tongue-in-cheek or not. “Unsuffer Me,” a plea for redemption, followed. Williams moved from strutting confidence to palpable fragility; she presented herself as a person with baggage, one who still had hopes and dreams. “Joy” closed the pre-encore show with a big bang. “You took my joy/I want it back!” she sang. Even Williams’ most blistering rock often carries a melancholic message or subtext. She doesn’t give in to unbridled happiness much; neither does she let the demons beat her down. She plays well at both ends of the field.
    Saturday’s show in Lowell costs $30 advance and $35 at the door. Expect a generous, complex set and an emotional roller.coaster ride where country, blues, folk and rock all make their appearances – sometimes nicely blurred and scrambled.

50 French St., Lowell, 978-970-5200