 |
|||||
|
Score high points for songwriters with points to make and their own points of view. Here are some modern, very original, literate ones. Their work is well worth hearing, whether they are singing it themselves or giving over some of the singing to others. In the case of composer-lyricist Louis Rosen, he gives most vocals to his marvelous muse, Capathia Jenkins. Songwriters Zina Goldrich and Marcy Heisler sing their own numbers and have two guests. And clever Jack Prather has friends along and a grand band.
In their third album collaboration of songs brimming over with intelligence and passion, full of musical adventurousness, writer Louis Rosen (who only occasionally takes vocals) and singer Capathia Jenkins succeed again. This is rewarding to hear, whether a track is bold or burnished, captures political unrest, or brings restful contentment as it paints a picture of romantic serenity. The CD is immensely satisfying and the songs are quite varied, but what they have in common is a striking originality and thoughtfulness. Singer and musical theatre actress Capathia Jenkins performs with such integrity and passion, always serving the song, and her warm and soulful voice conveys so much humanity. It seems she can sing anything—and with great control and presence. On some songs, there's strong medicine in the messages, a few numbers have a lighter fun flavor, and it's always interesting. Nothing feels pat or mechanical or packaged. As a songwriter, Louis Rosen has a lot to say and finds interesting language choices with crisp images and his melodies are not predictable, manipulative or commercial. But they are pleasing and often intriguing. Four of the lyrics are settings of the work of poet Nikki Giovanni, which was the sole focus of the previous Rosen/Jenkins CD, An Ounce of Truth. The music respects and brings rich colors to the poems, enhancing their sense of hope and determination in the midst of the hard truths of living with today's realities. Some express anger or frustration, but I think the music as arranged and played gives them focus and clarity rather than softening them or making them seem too smooth. Although Capathia's voice is undeniably pretty and graceful, it also has a strength and gutsiness that put aside any worry of the poetry getting watered down. Giovanni's "Choices" ("The Best That I Can Do") is a kind of serenity prayer of perspective (Sample: "If I can't have what I want, then my job is to want what I've got ..."). In her "Don't Hold Me Back," things get more endearingly delicate ("And when I dream, I dream in colors. Even rainy days sparkle. Even clouds have shine."). Capathia's glorious voice is like liquid in the warm-and-fuzzy romantic contentment odes "I Want to Live to Love You" and "On That Day." These are just lovely and winningly graceful, as is "A Lover's Melody," the dreamily sung promise of loving support during tough times ("Hear my voice above the din/ Song may be the remedy"). She can also be commanding and forceful, as in the title song, which is an indictment of the "world gone wrong" mixed with the new hope for change: the song was inspired by the vision of Barack Obama. Her sorrow is palpable in "Winter Daze" as she sings the terse, heartbreaking line, "Dreams do die," but the sense of down-but-not-out resurfaces near the end when she refers again to dreams, singing, "Can't let them die." I confess that occasionally the hypnotic beauty of her voice might have made my attention wander from the bleaker or sadder lyrics; fortunately, there's a booklet with all the words to keep me on track with each track. Besides some subtle back-up vocals, Louis Rosen only makes two major vocal appearances—both making strong impressions. He sings his slyly comic gripe about a loss of income, "The Middle-Class (Used to Be) Blues," in his gruff tone, having some fun with words and initials ("The I.R.S. expects its money C.O.D/ My I.R.A., all I can say is R.I.P."). Then he does a charming duet with Capathia, "I Need You." It's a classic "list" song, a long list of similes that is a cut above the typical "Look, it rhymes" set of samples, because in addition to lines like "Like a beach needs a wave ... like a bear needs a cave," it has references to The Beatles and the Obamas and upping the ante by using homophones ("Like a baker needs flour, a flower needs a stem"). These are very cute numbers in what is otherwise a rather serious set of songs. Rosen plays guitar on all tracks, and his arrangements and instrumentation choices are particularly well done and gratifying. The excellent musicians play with care and sensitivity, called upon to set and embellish moods and are so much more than simply background or accompaniment. There is space in the arrangements, between vocal lines, to let them make brief but effective statements. Instrumentation varies from track to track, but especially evocative are the playing of Glenn Drewes on trumpet, Andrew Sterman who is heard on tenor, alto and soprano sax, clarinet and flute, and Rob Moose on guitar (mostly electric) and violin. Also heard to advantage is the vibraphone (Mark Sherman or Erik Charlston). Capathia, who this week joins the cast of Off-Broadway's Love, Loss and What I Wore has been taking time this month to rejoin Louis Rosen to perform these songs at Joe's Pub: remaining dates are November 21 and 22. The next day, November 23, the duo gives a free mini-concert and CD signing at Barnes & Noble on 66th Street and Broadway. Their combination is electric.
Known mostly for their clever, comical cabaret songs (and a few heart-tugging ones) and some scores for children's theatre/family audiences, composer Zina Goldrich and wordsmith Marcy Heisler are also quite good performers. They often perform their own songs, notably at Birdland in recent times, and numerous singers have latched onto their bright, entertaining songs for cabaret acts and recordings. They had made available two Cabaret Samplers on CD for interested singers and fans, and although some of the oldies-but-goodies are on The Album, it is all newly recorded. Generally, it's a treat, although I find some of the arrangements and orchestrations distractingly busy or pushy and the tempo a bit rushed on a couple of tracks. Their writing is skilled and the lyrics are often witty or warm and don't need to be cluttered up with pop sounds. The first track is the very peppy "Make Your Own Party," which they also recorded for the wonderful The Child in Me, Volume 1 from Jamie de Roy & Friends a decade ago. It's their only track singing as a duo here, which is a disappointment since their voices and energy blend so well, with sparks, that I wanted much more of that combination. But there's plenty to enjoy. Their most exposed song is that sweet tale of a crush on "Taylor, the Latte Boy" who works at Starbuck's. Zina takes this one, making it sound as newly fresh and sweet as just-brewed coffee with extra sugar. Giddy and gleeful and girlish, projecting the rush of possible requited affection that could be even stronger than the rush of caffeine, she presents a charming rendition that doesn't overdo the cute factor. In "Baltimore, "a lyric-thick (in a good way) warning about avoiding the bad news guys from that city, she sails through the comical verbiage about their alarming personal habits. Settling down to a calm, peaceful "Menemsha Moon," a solo that closes the CD, is a dreamy, serene beauty, relishing the romance of having "nowhere to go, except each other's arms." Zina is also the pianist in the band and did many of the orchestrations, alone or as a collaborator. Marcy can be deliciously funny or heartbreakingly vulnerable, a win/win situation. She shines in the longtime favorite, "Alto's Lament." This is a number that singers and musical theatre fans get an extra kick out of, as it explains the frustration of a performer who is always singing the supportive lower notes instead of the melody/lead and then illustrates this with real examples of show tunes from West Side Story, etc. In "The Last Song," Marcy nails the neurotic desperation/denial of a lover who can't let go after one "final" song, phone message, email or postcard. On the serious side, there's her touching and nakedly emotional confession, "Oh, How I Loved You," and she shimmers on "Love Like Breathing," a song about the different kinds of love experiences ("mad love and half love and bad love and love that is over too soon"). What's especially notable in her singing and lyric writing is a knack for acknowledging the dangers and disasters, the imperfections and faults, while still holding out for (or remembering) the satisfaction and joy of deep, real love. Jill Abramovitz, who was in the New York cast of the Goldrich/Heisler musical Junie B. Jones and is also on the recently released delightful studio cast album of their Dear Edwina score, guests for two impressive solos. She grabs attention with "Gabriel's List," about the boyfriend with loveable quirks and fine qualities too good to be real, which has a surprise near the end that is as unexpected as it is honestly heartbreaking. Jill also jumps fully and fearlessly into a mad story song about another strong love attraction, this time among penguins: "Los Penguinos." She is a major hoot, shrilly squawking "Aaak aaak aaak aak hoot hoot" in high-energy rhythm in this grandly goofy number. High-voiced tenor Scott Coulter is on two tracks as well. He duets with Zina on the perky pledge of eternal devotion shown via errands like, but not limited to, laundry and shopping, "There's Nothing I Wouldn't Do." For example: "I long to do all your taxes/ I'll make a quesadilla/ I'll rent a van for two and then I'll drive you to IKEA." Ah, the things we do for love. Scott turns in the album's most dramatic moment, the powerful "Welcome the Rain" which is about taking in life's torments as well as its joys ("Don't be afraid of the power of life/ Open your eyes to its wonder."). Scott is convincing and fully in charge of his soaring voice and this regal, mature philosophy-in-song. Ms. Abramovitz and Mr. Coulter make such strong contributions on these four tracks that it seems unfair not to have their names more prominent (they are not on the front or back of the album where prospective customers would see them). It's a bit of a frustration that the booklet containing the lyrics does not have them in the track order, so you have to keep flipping pages to find your place if you want to follow along. This 14-track collection is a fine introduction to two talented songwriters who also happen to be very good interpreters of their own material and whose contemporary, quirky, colloquial sensibility and warmth come across loud and clear.
He's very cool, as it is the rule for a jazzman to be. He's a savvy songwriter who has special ways with a turn of phrase and reams of rhymes coming unexpectedly. That's the very clever Californian craftsman-bassist-singer Jack Prather. A new set of his smart, hip-as-can-be, very funny, and occasionally sentimental output has been put out after a too-long absence. For those who enjoy well-written songs with a twist and tang, delivered in an offhand, cozy manner—or singers looking for a wide variety of fresh, literate material—meet this Jack of all trades in Shades. It's a winner all the way, whose low-key charms will be a breath of fresh air if you've been exposed to too many songs that wear you out with over-writing. Laidback Jack doesn't attack with declaiming, drama or a didactic tactic; it's not his style is not to hit you over the head, but rather to tickle your ribs and sometimes sneak his way into the heart by showing his. He has quite an impact with his understated, ingratiating ways and a wink at human foibles, including his own. I wish they'd thought to include a lyric booklet, because there are lyrics to savor: the wordplay of a latter-day Cole Porter in some songs, or Dave Frishberg's cool-but-warm sense of whimsy with words and wit as well as his vocal approach. The title song refers to a penchant for wearing sunglasses for any number of reasons, for example: "if your blues are in minor, if you're out of eyeliner" and, of course, "they're perfect for plastic surgery or if you're committing perjury." Using the title "Sleepless in Seattle" as a model for a series of lines with alliteration involving other disconcerting states of minds in different states, he rattles off a quick series of cities, such as being "fearless in Fargo" and "restless in Reno." My favorite: "I've grown mindless in Manhattan after two Lloyd Webber shows." And "Italian Jazz" lets him have great fun with rhyming musicians' names: "I've recited Shelley with Bucky Pizzarelli" and that he "sold some baloney to Chuck Mangione." The list goes on, deliciously. But Jack is more than a slick, one-trick pony riding fast on a quick wit: he can also be tender and sincere. His more traditional and heartfelt songs include the simpler "Do You Love Me?" and those featuring the striking voice of the great jazz singer Stephanie Haynes. As she did when they worked together on the Bopsicle album, she brings depth and heart and strong musical instincts to the table. Her solo of "Suddenly It's Summer" is a major highlight, a beautifully phrased and moving performance, as warm as the subject matter itself. In addition to some other harmonizing, the superb Stephanie has two full-fledged and winning duets with Jack. There's "Don't Look Now," a lively, ingratiating too-late warning to someone who has somehow unexpectedly fallen in love. Even better is "Here's Looking at You," a short-but-sweet (just about two minutes) couple's eyes-open "toast to our checkered past." I can see this little gem being picked up by other singing duos. Stephanie is a gifted vocalist whose appearances greatly enhance, and mesh with, the album. Another guest appearance is by singer Dewey Erney, who adds just the right wistful note for the dip in a well of nostalgia: one of the most traditional and non-flashy tunes, "Indiana Autumn." As this is the kind of jazz album where the band members are well-selected, respected and featured in solos, it's a pleasure to report that on Shades, this happens in spades. Most notable are the tasty solos by pianist Leonard Thompson and guitarist Sam Shepherd on "Italian Jazz." Elsewhere, there are jaunts with Keith Bishop who handles the woodwinds and Ron Stout on trumpet, both adding much flavor. Jerry Kalaf is the skillful drummer and our star, Mr. Prather, is hardly a slouch on bass. The band gets showcased especially well and appropriately at length on a nifty number that is very catchy, saluting the real-life great band (Django Reinhardt, Stéphane Grappelli, etc.): "The Hot Club of France" that "swings so hard you burn your underpants." In its own moments that are hot, warm, but mostly ultra-cool, Shades gets top grades.
|
|||||
|
|
|||||
CAPATHIA JENKINS & LOUIS ROSEN
MARCY HEISLER & ZINA GOLDRICH
JACK PRATHER 
