FTMO Articles/ Reviews
From Jazzwise (http://www.jazzwise.com/news/item/2382)
Diana Krall
From This Moment On
Diana Krall (v, p), Terrell Strafford (t), Gil Castellanos (t), Sal Cracchiolo (t, flhn), Jeff Clayton (as), Rickey Woodard (s), Gerald Clayton (p), Tamir Hendelman (p), Anthony Wilson (g), John Clayton (b), Jeff Hamilton (d) and the Clayton/Hamilton Jazz Orchestra. Rec. 2006
After her much-praised segue into co-writing on The Girl In the Other Room, the jazz world’s favourite poster girl re-embraces the songbook with a big, British Columbia bear hug. With her trusty A-team, co-producer Tommy LiPuma, engineer Al Schmitt and arranger/bandleader John Clayton, on hand to keep interpretations fresh, Krall takes palpable delight in delivering 11 of her favourite tunes, most of which she’s been singing and playing since childhood. It shows: tracks such as ‘Day In, Day Out’, ‘Come Dance With Me’ and ‘It Could Happen To You’ have been reworked with obvious knowledge.
Krall’s skills as a pianist have never been in doubt but here her voice seems richer, her phrasing more natural, her timing very often inspired – particularly on an unhurried, soon-come version of Irving Berlin’s ‘Isn’t It A Lovely Day’. It’s the ensemble playing, though, which really marks this out as a good ‘un – the thoughtful guitar of Anthony Wilson on ‘Exactly Like You’; Terrell Stafford’s trumpet solo on ‘Isn’t This...’, the musical empathy throughout. Sure, it would be nice to have more Krall originals. But for the time being, here’s the gal at her best.
Jane Cornwell
Feature (this is just an excerpt... you've got to subscribe for the rest):
Diana Krall - Little Girl Blue
Diana Krall hates labels as she detests the feeling of being boxed in. Embarrassed at being thought of as a new Ella Fitzgerald, she tells Jane Cornwell how she has moved on from the last, deeply felt album of songs many of which were co-written with husband Elvis Costello. It’s time instead to embrace again her roots, to explore richly satisfying jazz standards such as ‘Day in, Day Out’, ‘Exactly Like You’ and ‘From This Moment On’, the title track of the new album out this month, co-produced with Tommy LiPuma. The Canadian pianist and singer made her name internationally by immersing herself in the classic jazz vocal songbook, encouraged by the great bassist Ray Brown, and on the new album she returns to the fold in the company of the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra. As she embarks on a new happier stage in her life, in the public eye more than ever before as a jazz superstar and an expectant mother, she explodes some commonly held notions about her career, explains what she really wants to achieve in jazz and settles some old scores.
The pianist tinkling the ivories in the dining room of Claridges has no idea who the guest in Suite 301 is. This is probably a good thing, news that Diana Krall is in the building might well cause their fingers to seize in the middle of ‘Against All Odds’, or whatever cheesy track it is they’re playing. Notes waft blandly around the art deco surroundings, diners chat, clink glasses and dab at their mouths, oblivious. Waiting there I imagine someone else making music in the corner, someone who befits the glamorous decor. Someone from the Golden Era of song making, say Cole Porter, Ella Fitzgerald or Nat King Cole in his prime. And given her oeuvre, even Krall herself. Blonde hair in a pompadour, long legs in nylon stockings, wielding her emotive, lived-in alto.
The jazz superstar probably isn’t about to sashay in, elbow the hapless pianist off the bench and launch into a selection of standards off her new, tenth album, From This Moment On. A beautifully arranged, deftly produced, swinging triumph of an album, buoyed by Krall’s illustrious trio – Anthony Wilson on guitar, Jeff Hamilton on drums, John Clayton on upright bass – and the rather magnificent Clayton/Hamilton Jazz Orchestra. With a title borrowed from Cole Porter’s romantic ode to great expectations (‘No more blue songs/Only whoop de do songs’), her new album boasts 11 tunes that, taken together, form an upbeat, cohesive whole. Which, as it turns out, wasn’t specifically the intention.
In planning her follow-up to 2004’s The Girl In the Other Room, an introspective bundle of covers and, pretty much a first for Krall, originals co-written with her husband, Elvis Costello, Krall simply jotted down a list of songs. Many had been in her back pocket for years: ‘Day In, Day Out’, which the 41-year-old began working on in her late teens, when a student at Boston’s Berklee College of Music; ‘How Insensitive’, which she’s been figuring out for a decade; ‘I Was Doing All Right’, ‘Come Dance With Me’ and ‘You Can Depend On Me’, all of which she’d listened to as a girl in Nanaimo in British Columbia. They are a legacy of her record-collecting, stride piano-playing dad, Jim, an accountant. She says she was practising by playing along to Fats Waller, the moment her feet reached the pedals. Duke Ellington seduced her at an early age. So did Fred Astaire, Count Basie and Ray Brown. There are traces of all of them on the new album, just as there are traces of Ella Fitzgerald, Shirley Horn and Sarah Vaughan. But thanks in part to long-time producer Tommy LiPuma and arranger/bandleader John Clayton, Diana Krall still sounds like no one other than Diana Krall. Her delivery is more confident, too; her phrases even more perfectly placed. Sure, there’s a moment on her delicate rendition of ‘Little Girl Blue’ when it could be Joni Mitchell singing the line ‘Count your fingers’ – which delights Krall no end when it’s suggested to her later. (“Really? That’s a nice compliment. If I was going to want to sound like anybody it would be her.”) Imitation is indeed the sincerest form of flattery – more so, perhaps, when it’s completely unconscious.
“Isn’t it a lov-e-ly day... to be... caught... in the rain.”
Telegraph (UK) - Peter Culshaw
"No more blue songs/ only whoop-de-doo songs". In the words of the Cole Porter title track, Diana Krall is in upbeat mode on her 10th album. Domestic bliss with her husband Elvis Costello has contributed to her cheery state, she says.
While she has recently covered contemporary artists such as Tom Waits and Joni Mitchell and co-written with Costello, she has reverted here to the previous era of American songwriters such as the Gershwins, Rodgers and Hart and Sammy Cahn.
This might seem a retrograde step, especially as thousands of jazz singers everywhere think they can sing songs like Day In, Day Out or Come Dance With Me. But, apart from her distinctive, low, sultry voice, what they haven't got is Krall's big band of first-rate musicians, who are here impeccably recorded in the totemic Capitol studios in Hollywood, where Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole recorded, and whose ghosts seem to haunt this record.
Krall has a rare awareness of her capabilities and uses her voice like an instrument, which she blends perfectly with inventive arrangements from long-time collaborator John Clayton. She does a superb job of co-producing — from a delicate brush on the drums to the stabs of the brass, you can hear every precise detail in living stereo. If at times a little knowing, this is a truly sophisticated (before that word was diluted through over-use) record of tenderness, intelligence and humour.
Diana Krall
From This Moment On
Diana Krall (v, p), Terrell Strafford (t), Gil Castellanos (t), Sal Cracchiolo (t, flhn), Jeff Clayton (as), Rickey Woodard (s), Gerald Clayton (p), Tamir Hendelman (p), Anthony Wilson (g), John Clayton (b), Jeff Hamilton (d) and the Clayton/Hamilton Jazz Orchestra. Rec. 2006
After her much-praised segue into co-writing on The Girl In the Other Room, the jazz world’s favourite poster girl re-embraces the songbook with a big, British Columbia bear hug. With her trusty A-team, co-producer Tommy LiPuma, engineer Al Schmitt and arranger/bandleader John Clayton, on hand to keep interpretations fresh, Krall takes palpable delight in delivering 11 of her favourite tunes, most of which she’s been singing and playing since childhood. It shows: tracks such as ‘Day In, Day Out’, ‘Come Dance With Me’ and ‘It Could Happen To You’ have been reworked with obvious knowledge.
Krall’s skills as a pianist have never been in doubt but here her voice seems richer, her phrasing more natural, her timing very often inspired – particularly on an unhurried, soon-come version of Irving Berlin’s ‘Isn’t It A Lovely Day’. It’s the ensemble playing, though, which really marks this out as a good ‘un – the thoughtful guitar of Anthony Wilson on ‘Exactly Like You’; Terrell Stafford’s trumpet solo on ‘Isn’t This...’, the musical empathy throughout. Sure, it would be nice to have more Krall originals. But for the time being, here’s the gal at her best.
Jane Cornwell
Feature (this is just an excerpt... you've got to subscribe for the rest):
Diana Krall - Little Girl Blue
Diana Krall hates labels as she detests the feeling of being boxed in. Embarrassed at being thought of as a new Ella Fitzgerald, she tells Jane Cornwell how she has moved on from the last, deeply felt album of songs many of which were co-written with husband Elvis Costello. It’s time instead to embrace again her roots, to explore richly satisfying jazz standards such as ‘Day in, Day Out’, ‘Exactly Like You’ and ‘From This Moment On’, the title track of the new album out this month, co-produced with Tommy LiPuma. The Canadian pianist and singer made her name internationally by immersing herself in the classic jazz vocal songbook, encouraged by the great bassist Ray Brown, and on the new album she returns to the fold in the company of the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra. As she embarks on a new happier stage in her life, in the public eye more than ever before as a jazz superstar and an expectant mother, she explodes some commonly held notions about her career, explains what she really wants to achieve in jazz and settles some old scores.
The pianist tinkling the ivories in the dining room of Claridges has no idea who the guest in Suite 301 is. This is probably a good thing, news that Diana Krall is in the building might well cause their fingers to seize in the middle of ‘Against All Odds’, or whatever cheesy track it is they’re playing. Notes waft blandly around the art deco surroundings, diners chat, clink glasses and dab at their mouths, oblivious. Waiting there I imagine someone else making music in the corner, someone who befits the glamorous decor. Someone from the Golden Era of song making, say Cole Porter, Ella Fitzgerald or Nat King Cole in his prime. And given her oeuvre, even Krall herself. Blonde hair in a pompadour, long legs in nylon stockings, wielding her emotive, lived-in alto.
The jazz superstar probably isn’t about to sashay in, elbow the hapless pianist off the bench and launch into a selection of standards off her new, tenth album, From This Moment On. A beautifully arranged, deftly produced, swinging triumph of an album, buoyed by Krall’s illustrious trio – Anthony Wilson on guitar, Jeff Hamilton on drums, John Clayton on upright bass – and the rather magnificent Clayton/Hamilton Jazz Orchestra. With a title borrowed from Cole Porter’s romantic ode to great expectations (‘No more blue songs/Only whoop de do songs’), her new album boasts 11 tunes that, taken together, form an upbeat, cohesive whole. Which, as it turns out, wasn’t specifically the intention.
In planning her follow-up to 2004’s The Girl In the Other Room, an introspective bundle of covers and, pretty much a first for Krall, originals co-written with her husband, Elvis Costello, Krall simply jotted down a list of songs. Many had been in her back pocket for years: ‘Day In, Day Out’, which the 41-year-old began working on in her late teens, when a student at Boston’s Berklee College of Music; ‘How Insensitive’, which she’s been figuring out for a decade; ‘I Was Doing All Right’, ‘Come Dance With Me’ and ‘You Can Depend On Me’, all of which she’d listened to as a girl in Nanaimo in British Columbia. They are a legacy of her record-collecting, stride piano-playing dad, Jim, an accountant. She says she was practising by playing along to Fats Waller, the moment her feet reached the pedals. Duke Ellington seduced her at an early age. So did Fred Astaire, Count Basie and Ray Brown. There are traces of all of them on the new album, just as there are traces of Ella Fitzgerald, Shirley Horn and Sarah Vaughan. But thanks in part to long-time producer Tommy LiPuma and arranger/bandleader John Clayton, Diana Krall still sounds like no one other than Diana Krall. Her delivery is more confident, too; her phrases even more perfectly placed. Sure, there’s a moment on her delicate rendition of ‘Little Girl Blue’ when it could be Joni Mitchell singing the line ‘Count your fingers’ – which delights Krall no end when it’s suggested to her later. (“Really? That’s a nice compliment. If I was going to want to sound like anybody it would be her.”) Imitation is indeed the sincerest form of flattery – more so, perhaps, when it’s completely unconscious.
“Isn’t it a lov-e-ly day... to be... caught... in the rain.”
Telegraph (UK) - Peter Culshaw
"No more blue songs/ only whoop-de-doo songs". In the words of the Cole Porter title track, Diana Krall is in upbeat mode on her 10th album. Domestic bliss with her husband Elvis Costello has contributed to her cheery state, she says.
While she has recently covered contemporary artists such as Tom Waits and Joni Mitchell and co-written with Costello, she has reverted here to the previous era of American songwriters such as the Gershwins, Rodgers and Hart and Sammy Cahn.
This might seem a retrograde step, especially as thousands of jazz singers everywhere think they can sing songs like Day In, Day Out or Come Dance With Me. But, apart from her distinctive, low, sultry voice, what they haven't got is Krall's big band of first-rate musicians, who are here impeccably recorded in the totemic Capitol studios in Hollywood, where Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole recorded, and whose ghosts seem to haunt this record.
Krall has a rare awareness of her capabilities and uses her voice like an instrument, which she blends perfectly with inventive arrangements from long-time collaborator John Clayton. She does a superb job of co-producing — from a delicate brush on the drums to the stabs of the brass, you can hear every precise detail in living stereo. If at times a little knowing, this is a truly sophisticated (before that word was diluted through over-use) record of tenderness, intelligence and humour.