By
Kevin McGrath
Submitted On February 13, 2016
Three albums into her belated solo career, Rebecca Ferguson has
decided to gamble all her hard won credibility on this heartfelt love
letter to Billie Holliday and the Great American Songbook. In setting
out to record Lady Sings the Blues, a double albums worth of Tin Pan
Alley standards that includes such venerable songs as "Embraceable You",
"That Ole Devil Called Love", "Don't Explain" and "All Of Me", there
can be no doubt that Ferguson has deliberately set herself a mountain to
climb. After all, it was none other than Frank Sinatra himself who
credited the legendary Lady Day with being "his single greatest musical
influence". The fact that she so easily scales these dizzying heights on
Lady Sings the Blues, can't help but take the listeners' breath away!
The album, recorded in LA's Capitol Studios, kicks off with current single, "Get Happy", a skittish take on the debut composition of the Cotton Club's then in-house song-writing duo, Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen, but really hits its stride with a sassy, finger-snapping version of Holiday's "Fine and Mellow" and a silky reading of the Gershwin brothers' "Embraceable You". The spectacular quality is maintained with an imaginative re-working of Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Mercer's jazz standard "I Thought about You" a wistful re-telling of "Willow Weep for Me" and a suitably breezy version of Koehler and Arlen's biggest hit, "Stormy Weather". Knock out performances just keep right on coming, Ferguson is vexed and bemused on the perfectly pitched "What is this thing called Love", then downbeat and doleful on the fatalistic "Lover Man".
A huge amount of credit for this sumptuous album must go to producer/arranger/conductor and percussionist, Troy Miller. Miller's CV takes some beating - he's worked with Adele, Amy Winehouse and Donna Summer amongst others, and is presently earning a crust as Laura Mvula's musical director. His decorous arrangements are vividly brought to life by an ace combo of veteran sidemen, featuring the current director of the Count Basie Orchestra, Scotty Barnhart on Trumpet, Chuck Berghofer on bass, Ricky Woodward on Tenor Saxophone and Barbra Streisand's long time accompanist Tamir Hendelman at the Piano.
Miller's pertinent arrangements allow Ferguson the space to unveil each songs back story, adding just a splash of piano and Bob Shepherd's flute to the honeyed hush of her vocal on the heartrending "Don't Explain", or introducing a restrained, dexterous trumpet, to gently tease out the melancholic hue of George Gershwin's "Summertime". However, the album's standout track might just be the Marks and Simons toe-tapper, "All of Me". This song's whole-hearted lyric often results in an overwrought vocal, making Ferguson's uniquely understated delivery, here, all the more exceptional. The song, it should be said, loses not an ounce of its passion or commitment in Miller's more salubrious setting.
Perhaps, though, the biggest surprise of Lady Sings the Blues is Ferguson's truly immaculate phrasing. Her huskily mellifluous voice has long been recognised, but these three-minute masterpieces demand a great deal more from a singer. This time-honoured collection of songs, immortalised by the great crooners and jazz singers of the forties and fifties, constitutes a genuine American art form. Each of the greats has rubber-stamped these songs with their own particular pizzazz, (Brooklyn born vocalist Julius LaRosa reasons that Sinatra, by virtue of his intuitive phrasing, was able to turn a thirty-two bar song into a three-act play).
What a joy, then, to hear a young British singer cut a record of such breathtaking accomplishment, to take these canonical songs in her stride, to sing them with such an intimate knowledge and understanding, as if each were written for her or about her. A feat that becomes all the more astounding, when Ferguson readily admits to having been unfamiliar with a number of these songs before recording the initial demos! Whether it's on jaunty, effervescent numbers, like Rodgers and Hart's hardy perennial, "Blue Moon", or right at the other end of the emotional scale on Ruth Lowe's desolate ballad, "I'll Never Smile Again", she's right on the money, her pin-point phrasing and imaginative approach fleshing out the real meaning of each lyric.
With Lady Sings the Blues, a beguiling, luxuriant work of eye-watering loveliness, Rebecca Ferguson has staked a claim to be considered the best British singer of her generation. Believe me, this album is that good!
The album, recorded in LA's Capitol Studios, kicks off with current single, "Get Happy", a skittish take on the debut composition of the Cotton Club's then in-house song-writing duo, Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen, but really hits its stride with a sassy, finger-snapping version of Holiday's "Fine and Mellow" and a silky reading of the Gershwin brothers' "Embraceable You". The spectacular quality is maintained with an imaginative re-working of Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Mercer's jazz standard "I Thought about You" a wistful re-telling of "Willow Weep for Me" and a suitably breezy version of Koehler and Arlen's biggest hit, "Stormy Weather". Knock out performances just keep right on coming, Ferguson is vexed and bemused on the perfectly pitched "What is this thing called Love", then downbeat and doleful on the fatalistic "Lover Man".
A huge amount of credit for this sumptuous album must go to producer/arranger/conductor and percussionist, Troy Miller. Miller's CV takes some beating - he's worked with Adele, Amy Winehouse and Donna Summer amongst others, and is presently earning a crust as Laura Mvula's musical director. His decorous arrangements are vividly brought to life by an ace combo of veteran sidemen, featuring the current director of the Count Basie Orchestra, Scotty Barnhart on Trumpet, Chuck Berghofer on bass, Ricky Woodward on Tenor Saxophone and Barbra Streisand's long time accompanist Tamir Hendelman at the Piano.
Miller's pertinent arrangements allow Ferguson the space to unveil each songs back story, adding just a splash of piano and Bob Shepherd's flute to the honeyed hush of her vocal on the heartrending "Don't Explain", or introducing a restrained, dexterous trumpet, to gently tease out the melancholic hue of George Gershwin's "Summertime". However, the album's standout track might just be the Marks and Simons toe-tapper, "All of Me". This song's whole-hearted lyric often results in an overwrought vocal, making Ferguson's uniquely understated delivery, here, all the more exceptional. The song, it should be said, loses not an ounce of its passion or commitment in Miller's more salubrious setting.
Perhaps, though, the biggest surprise of Lady Sings the Blues is Ferguson's truly immaculate phrasing. Her huskily mellifluous voice has long been recognised, but these three-minute masterpieces demand a great deal more from a singer. This time-honoured collection of songs, immortalised by the great crooners and jazz singers of the forties and fifties, constitutes a genuine American art form. Each of the greats has rubber-stamped these songs with their own particular pizzazz, (Brooklyn born vocalist Julius LaRosa reasons that Sinatra, by virtue of his intuitive phrasing, was able to turn a thirty-two bar song into a three-act play).
What a joy, then, to hear a young British singer cut a record of such breathtaking accomplishment, to take these canonical songs in her stride, to sing them with such an intimate knowledge and understanding, as if each were written for her or about her. A feat that becomes all the more astounding, when Ferguson readily admits to having been unfamiliar with a number of these songs before recording the initial demos! Whether it's on jaunty, effervescent numbers, like Rodgers and Hart's hardy perennial, "Blue Moon", or right at the other end of the emotional scale on Ruth Lowe's desolate ballad, "I'll Never Smile Again", she's right on the money, her pin-point phrasing and imaginative approach fleshing out the real meaning of each lyric.
With Lady Sings the Blues, a beguiling, luxuriant work of eye-watering loveliness, Rebecca Ferguson has staked a claim to be considered the best British singer of her generation. Believe me, this album is that good!
Kevin McGrath writes for the respected cultural commentary website http://www.walesartsreview.org/.His blog http://www.kgmcgrath.tumblr.com covers a variety of musical genres and is essential reading for news of the best new bands in Wales.
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