Album of the Week, August 17, 2024
Sometimes a jazz record is as deep as the ocean, and sometimes it’s just fun. And sometimes, it can be deeply fun! Such has been the case with the music Kurt Elling has been releasing under the “SuperBlue” moniker. Started as a pandemic project, an initially virtual collaboration between Elling and Charlie Hunter, with DJ Harrison and Corey Fonville, the project appears to have taken on a life of its own and has seen a few releases. This week, as we (for now) wrap up this summer of jazz vocal music, we check in on the most recent release, 2023’s The Iridescent Spree.
Just because the music is fun doesn’t mean it has to be shallow. “Black Crow,” a cover of a Joni Mitchell tune from her 1976 album Hejira, definitely proves the point. Mitchell had increasingly moved in a jazz direction during the 1970s, and this cover returns the favor, reconfiguring the intense heat of the original into a cooler burbling groove. This is not Elling diving deeply into the psychodrama of a song; here he joyfully scats over the last verse until it abruptly ends, transitioning into “Freeman Square,” a Don Was tune with lyrics by Elling. If there’s a thesis statement for the album, it might be the closing chorus: “Unless you’re Miles Davis there’s always some brother / Some mother smoother than you./So don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. You’ve got plenty of bells to ring/Bring that bad thing you bring & swing on down to Freeman Square.” Elling swings hard here but it sounds effortlessly cool.
“Naughty Number Nine” might be familiar to aficionados of both composer Bob Dorough and Schoolhouse Rock—the original version can be watched on YouTube and is also part of the Multiplication Rock album. Here it’s a slightly boozy blues in 6 with a killer horn section and a hipper than hip vocal from Elling, echoing the brilliant original from drummer Grady Tate.
“Little Fairy Carpenter,” one of the full originals on the record, is a slow moving ballad that lets Elling stretch out a bit. “Finally life is hanging by a thread… the hourglass sands have run through your hands… your deadline calls you to fold or expand,” Elling’s narrator sings, returning to the carpe diem theme of earlier originals. The difference here is the brilliant harmony that Elling overdubs onto those chorus vocals, and the overall laid-back vibe that gives one the impression that he’s not just musically inclined but reclined (to steal a gag from an old Scooby Doo episode).
The side ends on an upbeat note. “Bounce It” made its debut as an instrumental track on the SuperBlue: Guilty Pleasures EP that accompanied the limited edition version of this record; this version adds lyrics and a certain cockeyed velocity to the seriously funky backing track (complete with horns).
“Only the Lonely Woman” invokes Ornette Coleman’s most famous ballad, with a sympathetic vocalese written by Elling atop skittering drums and atmospheric keys. “She’s just a lonely woman, hollowed out in despair,” he sings of an imagined woman in the throes of anguish; Coleman’s music, a show-stopping melody in any rendition, is the real star here.
“Right About Now,” a Ron Sexsmith tune from his 1999 album Whereabouts, is a faithful cover down to tempo and spareness of accompaniment; the original, as with many of Sexsmith’s tunes, needed little dressing up. This is blue-eyed soul, or at least blue-eyed R&B, at its most achingly desperate, and Elling does it justice.
“Not Here / Not Now” is a regretfully funky “no thank you,” as Elling informs a prospective partner that “though it’s clear / that we are smashing in a parallel sphere… there’s a price we’d pay for desire / so with regret / I’d better leave you with a quick goombye.” It’s less of a diss than “Can’t Make It With Your Mind” from SuperBlue, but it’s a “no thank you” nonetheless.
“The Afterlife” closes the album with a spoken word moment, as Elling narrates Billy Collins’ 1990 poem over a deeply funky groove. Elling returns here again to the subject of mortality and the regret that comes too late: “They wish they could wake in the morning like you/and stand at a window examining the winter trees…” But again, the main thing here is the groove, not the dead, and the song closes the album in this downtempo contemplation of the eternal.
Elling possesses a smoky voice, a deep groove and a voracious intellect, and sometimes his records lead more toward one of those three poles. In The Iridescent Spree, we get something approaching a balance, and a funky one, as we think about mortality even as the band has us chair-dancing. We may lean more into this balance between wit and rhythm in the not too far distant future; what is certain is that next week will be completely different.
You can listen to this week’s album here:
P.S. Here’s the bonus EP, Guilty Pleasures, which I recommend listening to with your mind wide open and your smile wider.