When Norah Jones released her first CD, Come Away with Me, in 2002, who could have foretold it would launch the career of the best-selling female artist of this decade? Sure, its soulful/mellow jazz-tinged pop, skillfully guided by veteran producer Arif Mardin, was a class act, and Jones’ voice grew to be more appealing on each subsequent listen. But 20 million albums and six Grammys later, Jones was not just a popular artist, she was a global phenomenon.
Not wanting to stray to far from this surprisingly winning formula, her second disc, Feels Like Home, was another Mardin-produced collection, this time of soulful/mellow country-tinged pop. It wasn’t as successful as Come Away with Me, that is it was only the second best-selling album of 2005 and sold a mere 11 million copies world-wide instead of 20 million. Going into this third album, the pressure from the record company was high. EMI’s sales have struggled lately, and the company crossed its fingers Jones would flex her sales muscle.
Not to worry, Not Too Late became Amazon.com’s most pre-ordered record ever, and instantly hit #1 in the U.S. and the U.K., as well as a host of other countries. There are some differences this time, some attempts to be more experimental, although they are sporadic do not stray far from the established winning formula. About half of this album’s songs follow the same soulful/mellow country-tinged pop template as Feels Like Home, while the others attempt to explore eclectic territory, incorporating folk, blues, and exhibiting a less-polished production veneer. The results are mostly positive, with hits and misses coming from both ends of this effort.
Tracks like “Wish I Could” and “Broken” have sparser arrangements than much of the material from her previous albums, relying only on guitar and the contrast of both bowed and pizzicato techniques on stringed instruments, cello in the case of “Wish I Could” and bass in the case of “Broken,” which also features some cello. These tracks, like many others, find a more intimate-sounding Jones. And its no surprise she’s taken a more personal approach this time, having produced the album with her boyfriend Lee Alexander, and written or co-written all of the songs.
Jones applies a more playful approach to several songs too. “Sinkin’ Soon” was referred to by one reviewer as being”’30s jug band blues.” It’s certainly different, as well as fun, scored with plucky mandolin, tinkling old-fashioned piano, and an eerie “yah yah yah” effect, that I think comes from a horn. There’s a great diversity of instrumentation throughout the album, as if Jones has thrown in—literally—everything but the kitchen sink (liner notes reveal that the percussion even includes “pots and pans”). The playfulness gets a big cloying though on “Little Room,” which has an annoying whistled solo.
My two favorite tracks ,“Until the End” and “Not My Friend,” are right next to each other, and both represent the best of both the Feels Like Home-style material and the more experimental songs. Bluesy “Until the End” has a great groove underscored by bass and piano. Jones songwriting ability extends not just the melodies, but the lyrics too. The couplet “I remember everything, and every sting” is so close as to sound more like a lisp than a rhyme, rendering it immediately memorable.
With a different arrangement “Not My Friend” could have been a Coldplay track. Acoustic guitar, piano, and marimba create an ethereal soundscape, punctured later in the song by “backward electric guitar.” It’s a simple and beautiful sad song that terminates with a few light taps of high piano keys.
The surest sign that you’re getting a more by-the-book Jones track is the presence of a Hammond B-3 organ. It’s good at creating that country-ish sound heard on first single “Thinking About You,” a good, but clearly calculated number. More upbeat “Be My Somebody” covers similar ground, as does “The Sun Doesn’t Like You” and “Wake Me Up.” These are the throwback tracks, all of which are fine, but none are particularly memorable in contrast to the other more eclectic tracks.
Lots of popular artists (John Mayer, Pink, Keane, Pet Shop Boys, Green Day, Dixie Chicks, etc.) have gotten political in their music lately, and Jones joins the growing chorus on “My Dear Country,” a dark rumination on her disappointment of the results of “election day,” presumably the one in 2004. Perhaps fearful of the branding the Chicks endured Jones says “I cherish you, my dear country” but then adds “sometimes I don’t understand the way we play.”
Two particularly lovely slower songs close the album. Sultry and smooth peddle guitar underscore the lovely ballad “Rosie’s Lullaby,” a song that isn’t afraid to take its time, unfolding with a reflective melancholy. Lovely closing number “Not Too Late” is scored by overlapping high and low piano chords, with some strings and subtle drumming coming in later.
With the death last year of renowned producer Arif Mardin, this third album might have appeared riskier, but Jones with her new producer proves to be as effective as before, if not more interesting. Although Not Too Late lacks the cohesive focus of the other two, a result of its eclecticism, there is a lot to like here, particularly in her efforts to venture beyond the safety of the MOR material to be more personal, showcase a variety of musical styles (all of which suit her gorgeous voice), and express some mischief and political ideas. Surely destined to be played in a Starbucks or Borders Café near you.
Not wanting to stray to far from this surprisingly winning formula, her second disc, Feels Like Home, was another Mardin-produced collection, this time of soulful/mellow country-tinged pop. It wasn’t as successful as Come Away with Me, that is it was only the second best-selling album of 2005 and sold a mere 11 million copies world-wide instead of 20 million. Going into this third album, the pressure from the record company was high. EMI’s sales have struggled lately, and the company crossed its fingers Jones would flex her sales muscle.
Not to worry, Not Too Late became Amazon.com’s most pre-ordered record ever, and instantly hit #1 in the U.S. and the U.K., as well as a host of other countries. There are some differences this time, some attempts to be more experimental, although they are sporadic do not stray far from the established winning formula. About half of this album’s songs follow the same soulful/mellow country-tinged pop template as Feels Like Home, while the others attempt to explore eclectic territory, incorporating folk, blues, and exhibiting a less-polished production veneer. The results are mostly positive, with hits and misses coming from both ends of this effort.
Tracks like “Wish I Could” and “Broken” have sparser arrangements than much of the material from her previous albums, relying only on guitar and the contrast of both bowed and pizzicato techniques on stringed instruments, cello in the case of “Wish I Could” and bass in the case of “Broken,” which also features some cello. These tracks, like many others, find a more intimate-sounding Jones. And its no surprise she’s taken a more personal approach this time, having produced the album with her boyfriend Lee Alexander, and written or co-written all of the songs.
Jones applies a more playful approach to several songs too. “Sinkin’ Soon” was referred to by one reviewer as being”’30s jug band blues.” It’s certainly different, as well as fun, scored with plucky mandolin, tinkling old-fashioned piano, and an eerie “yah yah yah” effect, that I think comes from a horn. There’s a great diversity of instrumentation throughout the album, as if Jones has thrown in—literally—everything but the kitchen sink (liner notes reveal that the percussion even includes “pots and pans”). The playfulness gets a big cloying though on “Little Room,” which has an annoying whistled solo.
My two favorite tracks ,“Until the End” and “Not My Friend,” are right next to each other, and both represent the best of both the Feels Like Home-style material and the more experimental songs. Bluesy “Until the End” has a great groove underscored by bass and piano. Jones songwriting ability extends not just the melodies, but the lyrics too. The couplet “I remember everything, and every sting” is so close as to sound more like a lisp than a rhyme, rendering it immediately memorable.
With a different arrangement “Not My Friend” could have been a Coldplay track. Acoustic guitar, piano, and marimba create an ethereal soundscape, punctured later in the song by “backward electric guitar.” It’s a simple and beautiful sad song that terminates with a few light taps of high piano keys.
The surest sign that you’re getting a more by-the-book Jones track is the presence of a Hammond B-3 organ. It’s good at creating that country-ish sound heard on first single “Thinking About You,” a good, but clearly calculated number. More upbeat “Be My Somebody” covers similar ground, as does “The Sun Doesn’t Like You” and “Wake Me Up.” These are the throwback tracks, all of which are fine, but none are particularly memorable in contrast to the other more eclectic tracks.
Lots of popular artists (John Mayer, Pink, Keane, Pet Shop Boys, Green Day, Dixie Chicks, etc.) have gotten political in their music lately, and Jones joins the growing chorus on “My Dear Country,” a dark rumination on her disappointment of the results of “election day,” presumably the one in 2004. Perhaps fearful of the branding the Chicks endured Jones says “I cherish you, my dear country” but then adds “sometimes I don’t understand the way we play.”
Two particularly lovely slower songs close the album. Sultry and smooth peddle guitar underscore the lovely ballad “Rosie’s Lullaby,” a song that isn’t afraid to take its time, unfolding with a reflective melancholy. Lovely closing number “Not Too Late” is scored by overlapping high and low piano chords, with some strings and subtle drumming coming in later.
With the death last year of renowned producer Arif Mardin, this third album might have appeared riskier, but Jones with her new producer proves to be as effective as before, if not more interesting. Although Not Too Late lacks the cohesive focus of the other two, a result of its eclecticism, there is a lot to like here, particularly in her efforts to venture beyond the safety of the MOR material to be more personal, showcase a variety of musical styles (all of which suit her gorgeous voice), and express some mischief and political ideas. Surely destined to be played in a Starbucks or Borders Café near you.
2 comments:
Snoozefest.
What is your email again? I lost my address book. You too, Christopher.
p.s. Have you heard the new album from The Rakes? It's fantastic.
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