No, I’m not talking about Julian Jaynes again, nor the persuasive pronouncements of pundits and politicians, just the singers I’ve come to like.
We were having lunch the other day when the sat-rad played some early Dylan. Had we been closer to the receiver, I might have changed the channel because I know that Beth isn’t particularly fond of his voice. It’s not hard to understand why; when he first burst upon the scene, most people couldn’t fathom the appeal of somebody who couldn’t really carry a tune while others of us were entranced by the raw honesty of that voice (although I confess that I find little to like in it today).
It’s all a matter of taste when it comes to voices, and it’s hard to say what it is we’re reacting to. Familiarity? Excitement? Exoticism? Eroticism? I personally don’t care for the sound of operatic arias, c&w twang, or heavy metal pretentions, while some folks probably can’t tolerate jazz phrasings or understand what anybody ever heard in Captain Beefheart. I know a couple of people who react violently to the sound of Neil Young, but let me hear that mincing voice of the lead singer from Supertramp and I’ll run screaming from the room. And while Bob Weir might be considered normal by most, he’s enough to keep me from having the Grateful Dead channel on if I’m not within reach of the remote.
Many of the singers I enjoy – Dylan, Bruce, Neil, Joni – are so tied to their own songs that I can’t swear I’d enjoy hearing them do just anything. But there are certain singers I admire purely as vocalists; they could sing the phone book and I’d love it. I’ll listen to anything by David Bromberg or Mose Allison, and you can’t touch Tom Rush or Judy Collins for smooth. Rickie Lee Jones sometimes sounds like she’s just had novocaine, but she can do playful or sultry. And Joss Stone proved to me that it’s possible to be a geezer and love young music. But four vocalists in particular stand head & shoulders above the rest.
I don’t know that I would have guessed 40 years ago that Van Morrison would have such staying power. Astral Weeks remains one of my half-dozen all-time favorite albums, and everything since then has confirmed his brilliance. His work is a balance of mysticism and raw energy that few others can manage – especially on classic long tracks like “You Don’t Pull No Punches, But You Don’t Push the River.” If I had to scout out a new radio station, my first question would be whether they played Van Morrison (and not just “Brown Eyed Girl”).
I had never heard of Cassandra Wilson until I saw her interviewed in Ken Burns’s PBS series on jazz. I bought a CD; then another; then another.... It’s not just that her smoky voice in itself is mesmerizing, she has a real knack for choosing material – everything from “Strange Fruit” to the Monkees’ “Last Train to Clarksville on one album, then another devoted solely to Miles Davis. Her take on Van’s “Tupelo Honey” is typically awesome.
My first impression of Diana Krall was that she was just some cupcake lounge singer; then I saw her on the old “BET on Jazz” network and wised up. I shouldn’t hold her looks against her, because her talent is phenomenal – standards never sounded better. (And not only classic jazz – think “Just the Way You Are” without the “wo-wo-wo.”) It’s not just that she has an incredible voice, she has an uncanny instinct for phrasing and her piano playing is impeccable. I just want to know what she sees in Elvis Costello.
I’ve been a fan of Ray Charles ever since I was in high school. I used to take his albums to parties and try to get my friends to listen, but Motown usually won out; they didn’t know he practically invented soul music. Whether singing blues or country, wailing with a band or crooning with strings, he raised the bar for singers in a career that spanned six decades. And in his final studio album, Genius Loves Company, one of the duets featured Diana Krall....
I guess what surprises me about these favorites is the absence of rock artists (since Morrison’s “Caledonia Soul” is more r&b). Rod Stewart or Patti Smith may come close. But these four consistently deliver.
We were having lunch the other day when the sat-rad played some early Dylan. Had we been closer to the receiver, I might have changed the channel because I know that Beth isn’t particularly fond of his voice. It’s not hard to understand why; when he first burst upon the scene, most people couldn’t fathom the appeal of somebody who couldn’t really carry a tune while others of us were entranced by the raw honesty of that voice (although I confess that I find little to like in it today).
It’s all a matter of taste when it comes to voices, and it’s hard to say what it is we’re reacting to. Familiarity? Excitement? Exoticism? Eroticism? I personally don’t care for the sound of operatic arias, c&w twang, or heavy metal pretentions, while some folks probably can’t tolerate jazz phrasings or understand what anybody ever heard in Captain Beefheart. I know a couple of people who react violently to the sound of Neil Young, but let me hear that mincing voice of the lead singer from Supertramp and I’ll run screaming from the room. And while Bob Weir might be considered normal by most, he’s enough to keep me from having the Grateful Dead channel on if I’m not within reach of the remote.
Many of the singers I enjoy – Dylan, Bruce, Neil, Joni – are so tied to their own songs that I can’t swear I’d enjoy hearing them do just anything. But there are certain singers I admire purely as vocalists; they could sing the phone book and I’d love it. I’ll listen to anything by David Bromberg or Mose Allison, and you can’t touch Tom Rush or Judy Collins for smooth. Rickie Lee Jones sometimes sounds like she’s just had novocaine, but she can do playful or sultry. And Joss Stone proved to me that it’s possible to be a geezer and love young music. But four vocalists in particular stand head & shoulders above the rest.
I don’t know that I would have guessed 40 years ago that Van Morrison would have such staying power. Astral Weeks remains one of my half-dozen all-time favorite albums, and everything since then has confirmed his brilliance. His work is a balance of mysticism and raw energy that few others can manage – especially on classic long tracks like “You Don’t Pull No Punches, But You Don’t Push the River.” If I had to scout out a new radio station, my first question would be whether they played Van Morrison (and not just “Brown Eyed Girl”).
I had never heard of Cassandra Wilson until I saw her interviewed in Ken Burns’s PBS series on jazz. I bought a CD; then another; then another.... It’s not just that her smoky voice in itself is mesmerizing, she has a real knack for choosing material – everything from “Strange Fruit” to the Monkees’ “Last Train to Clarksville on one album, then another devoted solely to Miles Davis. Her take on Van’s “Tupelo Honey” is typically awesome.
My first impression of Diana Krall was that she was just some cupcake lounge singer; then I saw her on the old “BET on Jazz” network and wised up. I shouldn’t hold her looks against her, because her talent is phenomenal – standards never sounded better. (And not only classic jazz – think “Just the Way You Are” without the “wo-wo-wo.”) It’s not just that she has an incredible voice, she has an uncanny instinct for phrasing and her piano playing is impeccable. I just want to know what she sees in Elvis Costello.
I’ve been a fan of Ray Charles ever since I was in high school. I used to take his albums to parties and try to get my friends to listen, but Motown usually won out; they didn’t know he practically invented soul music. Whether singing blues or country, wailing with a band or crooning with strings, he raised the bar for singers in a career that spanned six decades. And in his final studio album, Genius Loves Company, one of the duets featured Diana Krall....I guess what surprises me about these favorites is the absence of rock artists (since Morrison’s “Caledonia Soul” is more r&b). Rod Stewart or Patti Smith may come close. But these four consistently deliver.
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