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You can not go wrong with Cassandra Wilson. Though this album does not reach -- in my humble estimation -- the depths nor heights of Blue Light 'Til Dawn, there is always a place for her comtemplative and purely communicative expression in whatever time you devote to listening, really listening, to music. SHe is a jazz staple, and much deserves to be revered along with Billie, Ella and Sarah.
Cassandra has returned to the style of song and back up support that developed her original fan base. Hopefully, she will continue to explore more jazz related material that really brings out the unique voice of Cassandra Wilson.
On first thought, I didn't think Cassandra was up to the task of covering such songs as "Lover Come Back to Me" and "Loverly," but she made a fool out of me by giving these vintage pieces nice new turns with her distinctive voice. Still, she seems more at home on such songs as "St. James Infirmary" and "Dust My Broom," recalling her earlier forays into the Blues on Blue Light Til Dawn and New Moon Daughter. All in all, this is a very good album with excellent accompaniment by Jason Moran and Lonnie Plaxico.
Mind you, I do own it cause I was trying to keep the collection going (cause she IS good & everyone should have at least two of her in their collection), but not today. I have every other CD Ms. Not this one. Wilson has recorded & love them each in their own way, but this one - I can't. I tried on several different occasions to give this one some air & finally decided to let it go. For some reason, it seems rather bland & she sounds bored - nothing moved me. I'll wait until her next one comes around to give her some luv :-)
"Black Orpheus" is all haloed streetlamps in a midnight fog. Wilson thinks so, as she inhales a Southern aire and blows a serious blues jones into the lungs of these somewhat shopworn mannequins, breathing heat back into their Broadway bones. Wouldn't it be. Throughout, Wilson's warmth is palpable, heightened by the "liveness" of the recording. "Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most" is a bittersweet treat. "Wouldn't It Be Loverly." blithely skips over the crumbling concrete of disappointment. Wilson sings on, over, and around the beat; she clicks, claps, and finger snaps, exhorting her musicians to a communal "one." Let yourself get swept in. Everybody gets the blues; Wilson turns `em into jazzy rainbows.
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