Nikki Yanofsky.John Morstad/The Globe and Mail
- Jazz/Pop
- Nikki
- Nikki Yanofsky
- Decca
If you want a quick picture of Nikki Yanofsky's studio debut, skip to her version of On the Sunny Side of the Street.
The first thing you'll notice about it is that it starts with the shuffling samba groove of Led Zeppelin's Fool in the Rain. It's an audacious turn, made doubly sweet by the fact that the Zep hook fits so neatly beneath Sunny Side's melody. But instead of pushing the idea into Jamie Cullum territory, Yankofsky and the band switch to a double-time swing pulse before the group drops the tempo in a big, corny finish.
There, in a nutshell, is everything that's right and wrong with this disc. On the plus side, there's imagination and verve, a solid sense of jazz roots, and the 100-watt brilliance of Yanofsky's voice. On the others side, there's genre confusion, a lack of nerve, and a tendency to rely on cliché. And even though the good ultimately outweighs the bad, it's hard not to be a little disappointed that Yanofsky hasn't arrived fully and perfectly formed, like Aphrodite from the sea.
It wasn't for lack of trying. Assembled over the course of two years, with Phil Ramone producing and songwriting help from Ron Sexsmith and Jesse Harris (who wrote the Norah Jones hit Don't Know Why), the album is polished and ambitious, but also unfocussed, like a teenager who isn't quite sure who or what she wants to be when she grows up.
Yanofsky slips some cutesy, contemporary lyrics into Take the "A" Train and offers a personal tribute to Ella Fitzgerald in First Lady, but the only real surprise in the jazz fare is that her God Bless the Child owes more to Blood, Sweat & Tears than Billie Holiday.
The pop content is more of a mixed bag. Although Never Make It on Time is a transparent attempt at another Don't Know Why and I Believe is a soda jingle without the soda, Bienvenue dans ma vie is a minor masterpiece, a catchy, evocative slice-of-life song that exploits the richness of Yanofsky's voice without overselling it. Likewise, Cool My Heels shows off her R&B chops without slipping into blue-eyed soul excess, while her performance of Feist's Try Try Try succeeds succeeds succeeds.
Still, the brightest spot on the album is Over the Rainbow, a showstopper Yanofsky has been singing forever. But this version is different - quieter, sadder, more grown-up. There are depths her earlier renditions only hinted at, and a musicality that goes beyond the dazzle of her voice. Here's hoping her next album is more like it.