Back from another great game of
Ultimate and lunch at my favourite Victoria diner, Floyd’s, and ready to write
a blog entry.
Disc 420 is…Don’t Smoke in Bed
Year of Release: 1993
What’s up with the Cover? Holly Cole is apparently ‘relaxing’ by sitting
awkwardly in a photography studio. This
cover is alright, but it always bugs me that I can’t tell what kind of shoes
Holly is wearing, or even if she is wearing shoes. If she is, I suspect they are some variant on
those clunky early nineties monstrosities women wore back then. So not jazz.
How I Came To Know It: I think I saw a
video for “I Can See Clearly Now” and
fell in love with Cole’s voice, and went out and bought it shortly
thereafter. It’s not a great video, but
the song shines through.
How It Stacks Up: Holly Cole has ten or so studio albums, and a bunch
of compilations and live albums besides, but like a lot of Canadians, this is
the only one I have.
Rating: 4 stars
My first day listening to this
album I was walking to work in a torrential downpour. The first track is “I Can See Clearly Now” and when Cole’s voice, cool and easy, sang “the rain is gone” it made me feel like it
actually was. I even did a little twirl
of my brolly, getting a little wet in the process, and hardly noticing.
The song is perfectly timed
throughout. David Piltch’s stand-up bass
gets us started, filling in for a drum beat, and grounding the song
throughout. Cole starts off quiet and
confident, almost cheerful, and by the end of the song her voice is a crescendo
of positive energy. Aaron Davis’ work on
the piano is perfectly timed. Holding silent
through the first verse, by the second he begins politely introducing himself
into the song’s empty spaces, first a little ahead of the beat, then a little
behind, matching Cole’s vocals and showing another facet of the optimism that
pervades this song.
The Holly Cole trio’s remake of this
Johnny Nash classic is so good that it has ruined the original for me. If by the end of this song you are not even a
little bit more cheerful than when it started, you may want to see a doctor.
And thus “Don’t Smoke in Bed” gets
off to a start it can’t ever equal, but my how it tries, as the trio deliver
one jazz standard after another with simple, sweet arrangements that show their
love for these songs, and the quiet confidence that you don’t need to overdo
something to be noticed.
I’ve been trying to understand the
difficult and dense musical form that is jazz most of my adult life, dating
back to my early university days down at Herman’s Jazz Club. I have never fully got it, but along the way
I’ve come to love jazz trio (as opposed to a quartet or larger ensemble). Holly Cole exemplifies why the trio is so
good; simplicity. You can only do so
much noodling with three instruments – you need to trust each other’s
contributions, and rely on restrained arrangements.
And within the empty spaces left
in these arrangements, the Holly Cole trio are able to fully develop each note,
whether it is Cole’s vocal acrobatics (and let me assure you, this girl has the
pipes to fill that space) or just so you can appreciate the laid back vibe of
Piltch’s bass, that could be lost in a less thoughtful approach to these songs.
Emotionally, the album ranges all
over. There is the bittersweet “Tennessee Waltz,” slow and sad, Davis’
piano holding the emotional core of the song, and allowing Cole’s voice to push
right up to the edge of maudlin, without going over. The two instruments support each other like
dancers, each leaning out at opposing angles, but creating a tenuous balance
that would collapse if one of them were to lean even a little bit farther.
Then there are playful songs like “So and So” and “Ev’rything I’ve Got” which show the lighter side of failed
relationships, Cole jumping along to the up-tempo rhumba bass beat of “Ev’rything…” as she sasses her way
through lyrics like:
"I have eyes for you to give you dirty looks
I have words that do not come from children's books
There's a trick with a knife I'm learning to do
And ev'rything I've got belongs to you"
These are fun, but apart from the
five star stylings of “I Can See Clearly
Now” I think this album is at its best when it is at its sweetest.
In “Everyday Will Be Like a Holiday” the trio gets an assist from
saxophonist Joe Henderson, who mixes a triumphant note into the sweet, sweet
joy of knowing your true love is about to be home from a trip. Eighties producers take note; this is the
correct way to work saxophone into a song.
It’s a big and brash member of the horn family, and you need to be aware
that any excess noodling will be that much more pronounced. But with piano playing a little riff behind
it, and Cole’s voice delivering irrepressible joy at the prospect of a loving
reunion, it fits perfectly.
And then there’s “Cry (If You Want To)” a song from a
woman to her man letting him know that behind closed doors, he can show a
little weakness, and let it out. Cole’s
vocal on this song may be her best on the album, if only because of the
restraint she uses. Here is a woman
giving her man permission to shed a few tears, and not be diminished in her
eyes. My favourite line:
"No I won't make fun of you I won't tell anyone
I won't analyze what
you do or you should have done
I won't advise you
to go and have fun
You can cry if you
want to."
In lesser hands “Cry (If You Want To)” would feel like it
was pandering or sickly sweet, but instead you just feel like someone is giving
you a hug when you need one.
This album is ultimately a
collection of old standards, and it doesn’t break new ground in the world of
jazz. That said I get sick of the
desperate urge for jazz to feel like it always has to be breaking new
ground. More often than not, it just
comes out a hot and excessively complicated mess. “Don’t
Smoke in Bed” treats these great songs with the tender care they deserve, and
gives them room to grow.
Best tracks: I Can See Clearly Now, So and So, The Tennessee
Waltz, Everyday Will Be Like a Holiday, Cry (If You Want To).
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