On Smash, her January 22, 2013 debut on Concord
Jazz, Patricia Barber reiterates her unique position in modern music
as a jazz triple-threat � imaginative pianist, startling vocalist, and
innovative composer (international release dates may vary). With a new
band and a dozen new compositions, she also continues her two-decade
crusade to retrieve the ground that jazz musicians long ago ceded to
pop and rock: the realm of the intelligent and committed singer-songwriter,
tackling even familiar subjects (like love and loss) with a nuance and
depth beyond the limits of the Great American Songbook.
Once again � in the crisp chill of her vocals, as well as the fiery
feminine intellect that informs her music and lyrics � Barber makes most
of her contemporaries sound like little girls.
A prime example is the title track, where Barber paints the end of
a love affair with subtly stated allusions to destruction: the erosion
of edifices; a bloody road accident. The lines are more akin to poetry
than conventional song lyrics, as she depicts �the crumbling of tall
castles built / on kisses and blood / and dreams so like sand.� The song�s
reprise compares �the sound of a heart breaking� to �the sound of / the
red on the road� � a devastatingly effective m�lange of synesthetic imagery.
Aided by a raw, forceful guitar solo, the performance illuminates a counter-intuitive
realization about loss:
�It just struck me, as it does everyone who experiences great loss,
that on the outside, no one can tell,� Barber explains. �You go to the
grocery store, and everything�s the same, which is shocking. It struck
me that this is the sound of a heart breaking: silence. You�re alone.
And I felt that this was an interesting juxtaposition, since the sound
of a heart breaking should be the loudest, screamiest, shriekiest
combination of sounds there could be.�
Barber has another song on the subject of �loud, shrieky� emotion:
�Scream,� paradoxically set to a gentle, quiet melody that belies its
message, and which has proved extremely popular with those audiences
hearing it prior to this recording. �Scream / when Sunday / finally comes
/ and God / isn�t there . . . . the soldier / has his gun / and the war
/ isn�t where / we thought it would be.� As Barber points out in conversation,
with only the slightest sarcasm, �It�s an angry song � and everyone wants
that.�
Her anger finds a more whimsical (but no less impactful) outlet in
the catchy �Devil�s Food,� written specifically from Barber�s perspective
as a gay woman: �boy meets boy / girl meets girl / given any chance /
to fall in love / they do� . . . / like loves like / like devil�s food
/ like chocolate twice / I�m in the mood / for you . . . .�� She wrote
the song in reaction to last year�s highly publicized efforts to quash
gay-marriage initiatives around the country:
�It made me mad, and it made me want to make a declaration � but to
make it fun. I find one of the best ways to bring people to your perspective
is of course to charm them, and music can always do that. That�s how
I get a lot of people thinking about a lot of things. I mean, the lyrics
are fairly graphic � �sweet on sweet, meat on meat� � but the music is
so beguiling, I think I make the case. And when it becomes clear that
it�s turning into a gay disco song, it�s really fun watching people�s
reaction, which is surprise and mostly delight.�
It�s not the usual territory trod by jazz singers and songwriters;
we�re a long way from �The Man I Love.� (�Smart songs about the way we
think and live, not just about the way we love,� wrote Margo Jefferson
in The New York Times.)
Much of Barber�s magic lies in setting these words to music as fully
evocative as it is coolly provocative. Many of her arrangements attain
a thrilling friction between style and substance. (For a defining example,
turn to �Redshift,� in which Barber weds the science-geek lyric � itself
a miraculous marriage of physics and love � to the gentle lull of a bossa-nova
beat.)� Throughout the album, her Chicago-based quartet � comprising
the superlative rhythm team of bassist Larry Kohut and drummer Jon Deitemyer,
with the edgy and arresting John Kregor on guitars � functions as a translucent
extension of Barber�s own musicality, while her piano work enjoys a prominence
that some of her newer fans may not previously have experienced.
One song, �Missing� � perhaps the album�s most indelible portrait of
heartache � came about in an unusual way: �This was a commission, I guess
you could call it. A woman sent me a letter and her story, and a very
small check, and asked if I could turn it into a song. It was sort of
an outrageous request, but it really hit me, so I wrote it; it was my
idea to take the story through the four seasons. In some ways, it�s the
sleeper of the record. When I play this in concert, a lot of people cry
at this one.�
The other songs on Smash represent the fruit of Barber�s decision
to write what she calls a �syllabic song series�; these pieces resulted
from a disciplined framework, based on the number of beats in each poetic
line. (For instance, �The Swim� consists entirely of two-syllable lines;
�Spring Song� has three such phonemes per line; �The Wind Song,� six.)
�I studied the songwriters, but now I just study the poets,� she explains.
�I�m trying to make the poetry of a finer order. But I still need to
rhyme, because rhyme is rhythm, and rhythm is music.�
Audiophiles will be especially glad to know that Smash reunites
Barber with her long-time recording engineer Jim Anderson (with whom
she first worked in 1994, on her Premonition Records debut Caf� Blue.)
Anderson � who is Professor of Recorded Music at New York University�s
Tisch School for of the Arts � has again captured Barber�s music with
the clarity and presence that led Stereophile Magazine to label Caf�
Blue a �Record To Die For.� HDTracks and Mastered for iTunes versions
of Smash are also available.
After her long association with Premonition and then Blue Note Records,
Barber self-released her two most recent albums � recorded at Chicago�s
legendary Green Mill, her weekly showcase for more than two decades �
and had no plans to sign with anyone else at this point in her career.
�I didn�t have a contract, or even a recording in mind,� she states.
�I assumed that when I had a group of ten or so new songs I would probably
put it out myself.� Halfway through this process, Barber received an
offer from Concord, which she promptly turned down: �I was really enjoying
the freedom of not having a label, especially in this environment, and
just doing what I always do � trying to advance myself musically, practicing
a lot, and locking in on what I consider a really good band.�
But the persistence of Concord producer Nick Phillips won out. �He
came to see me, and he reminded me so much of Bruce Lundvall,� Barber
recalls, referring to the former Blue Note president with whom she worked
closely. �I had been grieving the loss of that professional relationship.
And then Nick mentioned that he has great respect and admiration for
Bruce. So we hit it off personally, and that�s what it takes for me.�
That, and the chance to take her time � to read poetry, practice piano,
and do some gardening on a tract of farmland she owns in Michigan, a
welcome getaway from city life in Chicago. That�s how Barber�s ideas
take root and bloom. She remains an electrifying performer, but performance
is not the most important aspect of her art. �My favorite part is the
internal part � the research,� she points out. �All the interesting stuff
happens inside your head and at the piano.�
Fortunately, those of us not in Patricia Barber�s head or at
her piano still get to enjoy the fruits of that labor. |
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