Killer Vocal Jazz. Yes, I'm Serious.

Alright, I know that I've had my scrapes in vocal jazz in the past months (I think my two least favorable reviews so far this year have been of Dianne Reeves' vomit-worthy "When You Know" and Roberta Gambarini and Hank Jones' terminally boring "You Are There"), but I'm here to make up for all of that so that the Gods of sung jazz can reverse my karma for the better. The two vocal jazz albums that I've heard recently to review for this blog (Cassandra Wilson's "Loverly" and Moss' self-titled debut called, well, "Moss") are totally different, but equally great. "Moss" is an innovative, folky, dare-I-say "rural jazz," album in which five luminaries from the vocal jazz world (Kate McGarry, Theo Blackmann, Peter Eldridge, Laura Kinhan, and my vocal hero Luciana Souza) sing originals and covers of the likes of Tom Waits, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell, whereas "Loverly" is a more-or-less straight ahead affair featuring mostly standards done brilliantly with a stellar rhythm section (pianist Jason Moran, guitarist Marvin Sewell, bassists Reginald Veal or Lonnie Plaxico, and drummer Herlin Riley) that gets a lot of time to show off.

Upon first view, it seems as though Cassandra Wilson hasn't made an album as straight-ahead as "Loverly" in at least ten years, but the beauty of "Loverly" lies in its depth. While it is not a cutting-edge jazz record by any standard, Wilson has no problem allowing her sidemen play some extremely angular solos (check out the way Marvin Sewell holds some really weird notes on "Wouldn't it be Loverly"), and each member of her great rhythm section makes the most of their time in the spotlight. The highlight of the album is a version of "St. James Infirmary," a song played over and over and over that Wilson makes fresh by turning into a slab of hard-core, M-Base funk. Jason Moran plays a chopped-up, bluesy solo, while Sewell comps up a storm with some extremely dissonant voicings. Wilson even does some cool rhythmic scatting during Sewell's solo. Albums like "Loverly" are the reason that people like Roberta Gambarini keep on mining the same old standards; sometimes in the right hands they just sound great. Recommended.

"Moss" is totally different, and this is clear about five seconds into the album; as opposed to opening with a standard (or an original that sounds like it could be a standard), it opens with a neo-classical rendition of a verse of Joni Mitchell's "Shadows and Light." The rest of the album walks the line between jazz, classical, and folk-rock, hitting its apex with Kate McGarry singing a beautiful, enlightening version of Neil Young's "Old Man," that, with minimal changes to Young's arrangement, still sounds like jazz. Each of the five singers have spotlights (another highlight is Luciana Souza's vocal on her original "Home"), although the most interesting tracks are group passages like "Object Devotion" and the two versions of "Shadows and Light," which really show the group's interplay. Also, guitarist Ben Monder's work on this album alone makes it worth a listen; as opposed to taking up a lot of solo space, he opts to stay on the sidelines (with a few notable exceptions, such as on "Home"), comping brilliantly and innovatively throughout. Also recommended.

Vocal jazz can be good when it's done well. Moss and Cassandra Wilson do it well; Dianne Reeves, not so much. Both albums are definitely worth a listen if you can get your hands on them; "Moss" in particular is a great listen if you're looking for yet another splinter of the "rural jazz" direction that Bill Frisell and Jenny Scheinman have been moving in. Next time I'll either have a review of Marc Ribot's "Party Intellectuals" or my first annual Guess-The-Downbeat-Critic's-Poll post.

Esperanza! (Spalding)

I'd like to set the record straight: I love the young bass player Esperanza Spalding's first album, "Junjo." I love the way it sounds like virtually nothing else in jazz; the wordless, expressive vocals sometimes highlighting a melody, occasionally sung along with the bass solo... the way that the band manages to sound minimal and huge at the same time due to the total lack of overdubs... the way you could hear Spalding's energy (albeit quiet, contained energy) just bursting at the seams of the recording, but never quite taking over to a point of destroying the piano trio aesthetic present. When I found out that Spalding would be singing much more (and with lyrics!) on her new album "Esperanza," I was afraid that the barely contained aesthetic of "Junjo" would be gone forever, replaced by a latin-flavored Norah Jones record; Esperanza would succumb to pressure from her other Monk-generation compatriot Ambrose Akinmusire to go R&B, and she would create the worst of all jazz travesties: a crossover record.

Upon first listen, I realized that all of my worst fears had been realized. After a second run through, all I could think was "why did she abandon the wordless vocals and obscure covers of 'Junjo' for this song-writer stuff?" Finally, about an hour ago, I realized that I've listened to this album ten times in the past two days. And then, as I began writing this, I figured it out. I love this album. All of the vocals with lyrics? Gorgeous; she has an incredible voice suited well for everything from Portuguese (the sing-song opener, "Ponta De Areia," is a cover of a tune by Brazilian song-writer Milton Nascimento) to Spanish. The R&B stuff? Beautiful. And somehow, in addition to all of this, she manages to throw in a track with the wordless vocals I loved from "Junjo," called "I Adore You," which will make it onto every mix CD I make for anyone in the coming year, and at least two brilliant straight ahead tracks, including a version of "Body and Soul," sung in Spanish and played in 5/4 (with a killer bass solo), and a post-bop instrumental dedicated to drummer Francisco Mela.

Even the most blatantly cross-over material on here manages to be worth listening to. "Precious," a song about being wronged by a lover that has no right to be anything but cliched, manages to come out as one of the album's most compulsively listenable tracks. "She Got to You," also about being wronged by a lover, contains some of pianist Leo Genovese's best work on the whole record. In fact, every band member does incredible work on this; Jamey Haddad's percussion is great throughout the album, as is Otis Brown's work on the drumset. As for the guest spots, which include Ambrose Akinmusire, Donald Harrison, and (not nearly enough) Gretchen Parlato, each only appears on a few tracks, leaving you wanting more.

I would love it if Esperanza Spalding were the next Norah Jones, and I think the world would be a happier place in general if people listened to this album in the least cynical way possible. Highly recommended.

Next time I'll have a review of David Sanchez' "Cultural Survival," and maybe something else. I was initially thinking I'd do a two-fer with "Esperanza," but I gave up on it when I started writing.

Tom Scott's New Album Redefines "Meh;" Dianne Reeves' New Album Redefines "Blech"

I know, I know; amidst all of the good albums out in recent months, why review two albums that are bound to be terrible? Because, in all honesty, these are the two albums- not "Tragicomic," not "Twilight World," not "History, Mystery-" that are going to sell in troves. And I'm here to tell you that one of them surpassed my expectations by about a hair, and the other one was soul-suckingly bad. So here goes; capsule reviews of Tom Scott's "Cannon Re-Loaded," a tribute to Cannonball Adderley, and Dianne Reeves' "When You Know."

Anyone with youtube knows that Tom Scott can play bop. I'd go so far as to say that anyone with youtube knows that Tom Scott can play bop well (depending on which of those videos you watch, Tom Scott either kills Ernie Watts or is killed by Ernie Watts, but he plays well on both). But when I heard that Tom Scott, the reedman behind smooth-jazz impresarios The LA Express, had an album of Cannonball Adderley tunes coming out, and that bass-slapster and Dave Sanborn partner in crime Marcus Miller was going to play bass, I have to admit I was a bit scared. You know what though? It isn't terrible. That said, it isn't good, either. Occupying some sort of odd nexus between jazz tunes and smoove-jamz, certain songs on "Cannon Re-Loaded" work much better than others. "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy" grooves without being overly slippery, but "Work Song" suffers from Miller's painful slap bass line. The saving grace of most of the album is George Duke, who by now is probably used to occupying this odd little area, but Terence Blanchard and Tom Scott both play more than adequately for the material. I'd say that if you saw the title and were immediately predisposed to buy it, it's worth it; the playing is good, and it isn't overly smooth. If you saw the title and thought, "hm, Tom Scott, who's that," don't. It isn't very good.

George Duke, who redeems much of "Cannon Re-Loaded" is, as chief producer and arranger, at fault for Dianne Reeves' new album, "When You Know." I say "at fault" because "When You Know" is so bad it will probably cause some listeners- mostly those who got into Dianne Reeves based on the pretty good "Good Night and Good Luck" soundtrack- to have a passionate need to find whoever is responsible for this trash and find a way to make sure they never make anything like it again. There is no point in going into specific tracks, because with the exception of a single track (the very good straight-ahead "Social Call") everything sounds the same; corny, overly-orchestrated retreads of R. Kelly's "Bump N' Grind," as reinvented for the viagra generation. Please don't buy this album. If you do, Diane Reeves will probably think this was a good direction for her. It wasn't.

I don't know what I'm going to review next time. Marc Feldman's reissue? Marcus Miller's new album? "Esperanza?" I guess I'll figure it out then.

"You Are There" Kills, Just Not in a Good Way

The death in the title does not refer to the career of either Roberta Gambarini or Hank Jones; they are both too well-established at this point for that, and the magazines seem to love this album. Nor does it refer to the Emarcy label; for what it is, this record will probably make a lot of money, maybe even get nominated for some grammies. The death in the title refers to my own death, due to boredom, about halfway through this record. I was jolted back by an energetic reading of "Suppertime," which, while incredible in the context of an album bogged down by so much painful cliche and balladry so flat as to be kosher for passover that not even the great Hank Jones can save it, would sound just as painfully cliched in any other context.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I have some sort of prejudice against vocal jazz (although, admittedly, I do); it's not so much that its a bad jazz album (which it is- especially terrible in light of 2007's great "Kids" duet album Jones did with Joe Lovano) but that it's a terrible, boring vocal jazz album. My girlfriend once called Brad Mehldau's "Art of the Trio Vol. 3" (I believe I've mentioned before that it is my favorite record of his) "good dinner music," which it is, and I think a lot of people will think of "You Are There" as good dinner music, which, I suppose, it is also. Gambarini's voice is pleasing, and Jones tinkles away at the piano like he always does, but don't get me wrong, this album is nothing more than dinner music.

There have been great recent vocal jazz records recently (Gretchen Parlato's self titled debut springs to mind, as does Herbie Hancock's Grammy winning "River," on which half the tracks had vocals), but this is not one of them. I'd buy this album if you plan on having a dinner party where people don't talk too loudly but still have no interest in paying attention to the music, or if you don't already have any album by, say, Diana Krahl, and think that the pleasing sounds of a female jazz singer singing the same way as any other female jazz singer could be therapeutic. If neither of these applies to you, avoid it like the plague.

Also: Jimmy Giuffre died a few days ago. He was a brilliant saxophonist and composer whose innovations with his trio helped pave the way for free music, albeit a quiet, lyrical strain of free music. If you are interested, there is a video of him with his trio (Jim Hall and Steve Swallow round it out) on youtube, and a well-written obituary can be found here.