“With her expressive soprano voice employing sudden alterations of volume and force, and her lyrical focus on Los Angeles street life, Rickie Lee Jones comes on like the love child of Laura Nyro and Tom Waits on her self-titled debut album (1979),” (AllMusic).
The personnel on the album leaned heavily towards players from the jazz genre, creating a sound that “follows the contours of Jones’ impressionistic stories about scuffling people on the streets and in the bars. There is an undertow of melancholy that becomes more overt toward the end, as the narrator’s friends and lovers clear out … But then, the romance of the street is easily replaced by its loneliness. Rickie Lee Jones is an astounding debut album that simultaneously sounds like a synthesis of many familiar styles and like nothing that anybody’s ever done before.”
“Last Chance Texaco” starts out with an apparent focus on auto maintenance — and its elevated importance as one’s location grows increasingly remote. But it later becomes clear that the focus is much broader, even though the automotive euphemisms endure throughout. Intermittent swelling and fading hints of a lonesome highway are evoked instrumentally during the verses, joined by Jones’ own multi-layered wordless backup vocal around 3:30. The easy 6/8 feel of the F# major chorus transitions to a poignant, restive chorus in E minor (first heard from 1:01 – 1:39). Make sure to check out the gorgeous lyrics, as Jones’ delivery varies hugely in both volume and clarity.
It’s her last chance
Her timing’s all wrong
Her last chance
She can’t idle this long
Her last chance
Turn her over and go
Pullin’ out of the last chance Texaco
The last chance