A bittersweet farewell to the extraordinary jazz vocalist Sheila Jordan. Bitter for the obvious reason that the world is poorer in her absence and sweet because my GOODNESS what a legacy she built in her almost 97 years on the planet. Some singers resist being pigeonholed as jazz vocalists because it doesn’t fully reflect the breadth of their interests and skills, and that’s totally cool. Sheila was in a sense the opposite – her career was strikingly varied, yet she wore the jazz mantle with great pride. Even if her only contribution had been her commitment to the broader jazz ecosystem and the musicians within it, that would have represented a significant legacy, but obviously it wasn’t. Her deep, virtuosic, and instantly recognizable approach to singing jazz was tremendous, and though her recording career began late and stalled for a while as she juggled a day job and being a single mother, she certainly made up for “lost” time. Here is a handful of favorites:
1 ) “It Don’t Mean A Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)” from Comes Love: Lost Session 1960 (1960)
This recording with unknown instrumentalists was unearthed relatively recently, but boy does it demonstrate how mature and authoritative her skills were even prior to the recording of her debut album. She weaves through an uptempo version of this Ellington classic like a hot knife through bop-butter.
2 ) “If You Could See Me Now” from Portrait of Sheila (1962)
A rare vocal album from Blue Note records at the time and a belated documentation of Sheila’s artistry (she was in her mid-30s when this debut album was recorded) this album is one of the classic vocal records in the jazz canon, period. Accompanied by Barry Galbraith, Steve Swallow, and Denzil Best, she commandingly interprets a range of older and then-contemporary material, including a heart-stoppingly intimate version of Tadd Dameron’s best-known ballad.
3 ) “You Are My Sunshine” from The Outer View by George Russell (1962)
If this dizzyingly varied and creative arrangement of “You Are My Sunshine” ended six minutes in, it would remain a landmark document of composer George Russell’s ingenuity. It doesn’t, however, and once Sheila enters, everything comes together with a vibrancy and emotional directness that is utterly disarming.
4 ) “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life” from album by Roswell Rudd (1974)
I will admit that I agonized over which tune on this amazing album to include, almost choosing ”Maiden Voyage” to demonstrate how far beyond bebop structures her mastery extended. In the end I chose this ballad as a stellar example of the deepening nuance of her approach to singing ballads and (particularly in the introductory duet portion with trombonist Rudd) her unflappable capacity to center a song even in unusual and vulnerable formats.
5 ) “The Saga of Harrison Crabfeathers” from Sheila (1977)
This quirky yet catchy waltz provides the platform through which to preview two major threads of Sheila’s career from this point forward. One is her relationship with pianist/composer Steve Kuhn and his music – though the first of Sheila’s recorded collaborations with him wouldn’t come for another two years, this is (to my awareness) the first example of her singing one of his tunes. The other is her affinity for the vocal/bass duo format (here with Norwegian bassist Arild Anderson, who also played on the previous track on this list), which would be a major thread for her moving forward.
6 ) “The Drinking Song ” from Last Year’s Waltz by Steve Kuhn (1981)
I honestly love all of Sheila’s collaborations with Steve Kuhn (hence what one might deem to be overrepresentation of that aspect of her career on this list – sorry) and this one, recorded live at Fat Tuesday’s in NYC, also features two other important collaborators of hers, drummer Bob Moses (with whom she collaborated on a half dozen albums aside from this one) and bassist Harvie S, another of her longtime duo partners. She scats through this one with a characteristic balance of command and abandon.
7 ) “Better Than Anything” from Better Than Anything (1991)
Starting in the 1970s this tune (which I first learned from a Tuck and Patti record as a teenager) became one of Sheila’s signatures, and this live rendition from Kimball’s East in Oakland, CA is probably my favorite. She is joined by Harvie S as well as pianist Alan Broadbent, himself an important collaborator of vocalist Irene Kral, the first to record a vocal rendition of this tune.
8 ) “My Favorite Recipe” from Jazz Child (1998)
One more time for Sheila’s work with Steve Kuhn, this time on the first of two albums in which his trio were accompanists on records under her name. This whole album is gorgeous, and while it was hard to omit her masterful version of Don Cherry’s “Art Deco,” I can’t not grin when I hear her soulful melody and hard-swinging scat solo on Cheryl Pyle’s lyric to the great Tom Harrell tune “Buffalo Wings.”
9 ) “Humdrum Blues” from Celebration (2004)
There is no need to quantify who the “most important” bassist was in her duo performances through the years (Steve Swallow, who played on “Dat Dere” on her debut album? Arild Anderson for doing her first full-length duo record? Harvie S for sheer volume of output, not to mention quality?) but certainly Cameron Brown belongs in the conversation. Hearing Sheila sing the blues is always a treat, and this live interpretation (celebrating her 76th birthday) of an Oscar Brown Jr. classic that she recorded 42 years prior on Portrait of Sheila is just delicious.
10 ) “The Bird / Confirmation” from Triotrio Meets Sheila Jordan (2021)
Recorded amidst Covid lockdown times, this delightful performance shines a light on (at least) three important aspects of Sheila’s work. One is her commitment to nurturing and collaborating with musicians from younger generations – the swinging trio of pianist Jacob Sacks, bassist Dave Ambrosio, and drummer Vinnie Sperrazza were all in the vicinity of 50 years her junior. Another is her compelling and very witty storytelling capabilities. Finally, and a fitting place to wrap this up, her relationship with the music of Charlie Parker was always a central component to her conception, and at age 92 we hear how deeply that was metabolized.
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