In typical style, Lucinda Williams uses her latest album, “West,” to delve even further into her career-long self-exploration of one of the strongest human emotions—pain.

The Louisiana-born country/folk/rock/blues/alternative singer-songwriter (critics can never seem to decide on a label for her) translates her findings into 13 tracks chock-full of honesty about her recent loss and heartbreak. In certain songs she sings with an especially raw and almost abrasive quality. And while the album is far from uplifting, it’s this honesty that brings power and weight to her music.

As a result, it’s not always an easy listen, but it’s a satisfying one. This eighth album in her 37-year career is marked by a darker, more sober tone than many past offerings, most strongly resembling 2003’s “World Without Tears.”

The album’s generally downbeat vibe is reportedly inspired by both her mother’s death and the turbulent end of a love affair, and both get examined in myriad ways. In the song “Mama You Sweet,” she introduces the grief caused by the loss of her mother: “And the pain in my soul / The pain hits a wall / Doesn’t know which way to go...Pain courses through every vain every limb / Trying to find a way out.”

Then, in “Fancy Funerals,” Williams turns her experience planning an extravagant funeral for her mother into heartbreaking advice: “So don’t buy a fancy funeral / It’s not worth it in the end.”

In conjunction with her mother’s death, her difficult break-up manifests itself in a variety of tones and sounds throughout the album.

“Wrap My Head Around That” isn’t sung so much as rhythmically spoken on pitch in a clearly blunt, near-angry, almost disgusted tone. It’s packed with jumbled, biting pronouns that can’t help but amuse: “I know what you did to me and I know what we did / And who did what to who and who the hell you tryin’ to kid.”

The anguished “Where Is My Love?” again reflects the recent sorrow of Williams’ life. Her grainy, Southern voice breaks at times, becoming scratchy and torn in a cry of despair, only made more powerful by violins wailing in the background.

However, despite Williams’ somber subject matter and the melancholy melodies that permeate the album, she doesn’t leave the listener entirely hopeless, though it may take several listens to find the music’s uplifting aspects.

The final song, “West,” ultimately looks away from her pain-stricken past and toward the future: “Who knows what the future holds or where the cards will fall / But if you don’t come out west and see you’ll never know at all.” Even Williams, it seems, has to move on eventually.