She’d rather be called a song stylist

With hindsight, we can now joke that when Norah Jones entitled her EMI debut album Come Away With Me, it was not directed at some distant lover or even her listening public. Instead, it was a siren song aimed at those gramophone statuettes that are the envy and coveted possessions of musicians everywhere, the Grammies. How else can we explain the romp, the virtual shutout, the everything- but-the-kitchen-sink manner with which Norah made this year’s Grammies her personal waltz? Her trademark old soul in a young voice‚ beckoned and the statuettes just surrendered.

New Artist of the Year, Best Female Performance, Record of the Year, Song of the Year (for Don’t Know Why), Best Artist, the list went on and on, and if some person didn’t know who Norah Jones was before the Grammies, it’s a safe bet that after all the awards, they’ll be scrambling for the CD to catch up with the rest of the world. Last March 10, a special AVCD Limited Edition of Norah’s Come Away With Me was released. And there’s a DVD of Norah in Concert in the wings.

I had the chance to watch Norah late last year when they were taping her special for MTV. The following morning, we spent an hour chatting and even then, the feeling that something special was bound to happen to this talented vocalist/pianist/composer hung in the air. I mentioned that I saw it as a sure thing‚ that she would get a fistful of Grammy nominations. What a difference six months makes. Back then, she was just overjoyed people were listening to her and her album was climbing the charts. Self-effacing and a 23-year-old through and through, she acknowledged that she was doing something a bit different and was grateful for the attention. Now, judging by the post Awards interviews, there’s unrivalled joy and exhilaration, tempered by the trepidation of too much, too soon. Let’s face it–with the bumper crop of statuettes, what now will be the expectation level for the oft-cursed second effort? Nothing she can produce for her second album will touch what she’s garnered for this maiden recording.

Norah defies easy categorization and she knows it. A curious amalgam of jazz, blues, country, gospel and Western swing, the influences she brings to the table reflect the hodgepodge that is her music. I suggested that at heart, she’s a song stylist and she took to that. She said, "I know, I don’t really consider myself a jazz musician or singer in the pure sense of the phrase. I just have this way of singing, of choosing covers‚ of composing songs; and if the market insists on pigeonholing me, of giving me a tag the listeners out there can hook on to, what can I do? I like what you said, that essentially, you see me as a song stylist. That is what I do, I fashion out my own version of the songs I like, those that mean something to me, and if the people like what I’m doing, great!"

Produced by the legendary Arif Mardin, the album credits showed just how varied Norah’s musical influences are–Hank Williams, Hoagy Carmichael, standards like The Nearness of You. And for the MTV concert, for her encore number, she picked the Tennessee Waltz. The unifying element to all these disparate threads of music is her voice. And what a voice! It’s a caress, a lingering memory of a voice, one that defies her relatively young age. The timber, the phrasing all point to her childhood years when her mom would play Billie Holiday and Bessie Smith records throughout the day. As for her piano playing, she said, "The ones I always go back to are Bill Evans, Ray Charles and Joe Beam; but that’s not to say I think I’m anywhere close to playing like those guys. I still have so much to learn on that score."

As to who of her contemporaries she admires most, she said, "Joni Mitchell and her jazz– there’s like Turbulent Indigo album period, Jeff Buckley, Willie Nelson, Gillian Welch and Allison Krauss. Ryan Adams and his Heartbreaker album. I can listen to that all day!" And we laughed as I realized she was not referring to Canadian Bryan Adams. "I opened for John Mayer once, and like what he’s doing as well," she goes on. Looking at the names she ticked off the top of her head, it’s evident that there’s still a lot of country in this girl. She may be doing the rounds of concert halls, speakeasies and jazz clubs but the Grand Ole Opry can serve just as well.

Daughter of famed Indian sitarist Ravi Shankar (yes, he of George Harrison and Beatles fame, back in the ’70s), Norah grew up with her mother. Born in New York 23 years ago, they moved to Texas when Norah was very young and it was only when music and the recording industry beckoned that Norah made the prodigal’s return to the Big Apple. Of her father, Norah does not have much to say. She is his acknowledged daughter, but rather than use him as some starting point for giving her music a listen, she’s firmer in the belief that as she grew up with her mother, the less said about him, the better. Musically, they’re worlds apart, and it’s on the pure merit of what she’s offering that she’d rather be noticed. After Grammy night, that is now the least of her worries.

Norah has created a niche for herself with a brand of music that transcends age demographics and the vagaries of taste and trends. And there lies her special appeal for the ages to come. For the young ones out there who are already converts, she’s a performer they can age with gracefully. For the ones of her age who are into something that rocks more, they can get turned on in time, as they mellow out. And us older ones are already enraptured by the way she’s come, like some time-warped singer/songwriter; reminding us of the great ones we’ve encountered in our past.