A little while back I recorded with the talented singer Debbie Wilson in the estimable company of John Critchinson and Dave Green. Debbie has finally got round to making a CD and I was flattered to be invited to contribute the liner notes.
I thought I'd massage my already somewhat inflated ego and share a few extracts with you here.
Excuse me if I punctuate excessively as I’m a little bit excited. Sometimes it happens when I play the drums too. I neither know nor care at this point just how many records I’ve played on; what matters to me is what I refer to as ‘the shortlist’. The shortlist consists of the recordings of which I’m genuinely proud and can listen to more than the usual once or twice without wincing. The shortlist has just gained a new addition.
In an age where the career path for a female jazz vocalist consists of graduating from music college, navigating the secret tunnel beneath London which comes out in the 606 Club, and then sending your unsolicited internet news letter to as many people as possible, Debbie Wilson is a thoroughly welcome and refreshing change, bringing as she does a lifetime of experience which informs her performances throughout this debut disc. I like this approach; live your life, get some experience, have a story to tell and then start making records, rather than the other way round. Take Debbie’s advice and ‘Do It The Hard Way’. My sentiments exactly.
I remember a tale told to me by a chart topping singer of the 1960s who when working in a dance band prior to getting her big break was forbidden by the bandleader from singing Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen’s ‘All the Way’ as he considered her to be insufficiently mature to be able to convey the meaning of the lyrics. Bear that in mind when you listen to Debbie’s reading of Sunny Skylar’s ‘Don’t Wait Too Long’ and you’ll immediately understand why these words should never be entrusted to a 23 year old. Similarly Critch outdoes himself on this track and I keep returning to the point in his solo where he repeats his previous phrase in a different place in the time. All the chops in the world will never give you magic moments like that.
In addition Debbie has successfully avoided going down the traditional route for debut female vocal albums and consciously decided not to follow the oft-trodden path of inviting guest contributors from the upper echelons of British jazz. A tradition which has, incidentally, resulted in Alan Barnes and Jim Mullen taking up residence in Monaco for tax purposes. At the risk of appearing immodest, don’t be confused by the somewhat stellar nature of the rhythm section, Debbie took time to evaluate who best met her expectations not only musically but personally too. Instrumental virtuosity is no excuse for personality shortcomings.
Another plus is Debbie’s avoidance of over elaboration and pretension. It takes maturity, experience and courage to stick close to a great melody and the avoid vocal gymnastics. You can extract every last ounce of meaning from a lyric without a single ‘hoobleedoop’. I’ve listened to these tracks over and over. Hoobleedoop count, zero.
Listen to how Debbie makes every word count on Arthur Schwartz & Yip Harburg’s underused 1934 composition ‘Then I’ll Be Tired of You’ in the unlikely event that my point was insufficiently clear.
This session re-emphasises the ongoing value and importance of the Great American Songbook and when we got the programme for the recording date I wasn’t sorry about the lack of any uber-cool, knowingly re-harmonised material from the canon of the likes of Radiohead and Coldpay: not even slightly.
And finally don’t draw any false inference from track 8, as this is most definitely the beginning of a love affair between Debbie Wilson and aficionados of good music in the UK and beyond.
I do hate it when people end sleeve notes with ‘enjoy’, so I’m not going to do that because I already know that you will.
We did too.
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