This is not a review. It would perhaps be somewhat misleading if I called it one as I am friends with Alex Bird (well, online, at least), and so it could be seen as somewhat biased. A biased review on the web, you ask? As if such a thing could happen!
Alex has been around online for a while. It must have been ten years or so ago, when I first heard him on YouTube, and now he has released his first album, Whisky Kisses, with his trio, the Jazz Mavericks. All of the songs here are originals, written by Alex with his pianist, Ewen Farncombe, and/or with Charlie Angus, who co-produced the album.
This is what would have been called in the old days a “love album.” There are ten ballads here and one mid-tempo number (Gotta Run), and it’s fair to say that the ten ballads are very much a new take on the Great American Songbook tradition. Bearing that in mind, the album as a concept reminds me a little of a Harry Connick Jr album from 1997 called To See You, which also featured ten new ballads. But To See You was a rather leaden affair, with most of the songs lacking a singable melodic hook, the tempos were often too slow, and half of the arrangements weighed down with heavy strings. There was never any real hope that the songs would catch on. None of that is an issue here.
Throughout the 47 minutes of the album, Alex wears both his heart and his influences on his sleeve, but he likes to have fun with those influences. The bass intro to the first number, Fire Not Warmth, is reminiscent of Fever, but, like some of the other songs, it doesn’t quite go where you expect as the verse leads into a catchy, melodic chorus with great use of organ to give it a funky feel.
Later, Now is the Night takes us into How Insensitive territory, and is something of a homage to the Jobim classic. There is also another nod to a classic on the back of the booklet, with a photograph that gets close to recreating the front cover of the Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan – not that there is much of Dylan’s influence in the music itself.
Back on the disc, the title of 3.52 (in the morning) may well remind people of “it’s a quarter to three” in One For My Baby, but that’s about the only thing the two songs have in common. 3.52 isn’t really a torch song, even if it starts out as if it’s going to head in that direction. The song opens up after a couple of minutes as it goes into the bridge. Alex sings here of writing “just one killer line,” but the truth is that he and Charlie Angus have written a killer bridge – and you don’t say that very often. Both Alex and his musicians know it’s a killer bridge section, that much is clear, and they sing and play the hell out of it each time it appears. If other singers don’t pick the song up in the coming months and years, I shall be very surprised.
Another highlight is I Almost Remembered – undoubtedly the best song that Peter Cincotti never wrote. There is some great work by Ewen Farncombe here – the song is almost a duet between him and Alex – and it may well be the best vocal on the whole album, singing with power at the beginning of each chorus and yet so delicately just a couple of lines later. And, like 3.52, it’s a beautiful song, both musically and lyrically, and deserves to be heard.
If 3.52 and I Almost Remembered are the most substantial, deepest songs on the album, then perhaps I should also highlight the cute Lemon Drop Stars as a contrast. It is perhaps the most straightforward song from both a lyrical and musical point of view, but it works remarkably well, especially in its place on the album – which is sequenced very well, I might add.
The title song is the perfect closer for the disc, and is a great showcase for Alex’s smoky vocals – confident and yet tender, and beautifully navigating the long phrases. But perhaps we shouldn’t surprised, for Alex has been listening to, and learning from, the best – Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bobby Darin, Sammy Davis Jr, Ella, Rosemary Clooney, Elvis, Nat King Cole and beyond. And let’s not forget the great work of the trio (Ewen Francombe, Eric West and Scott Hunter) who certainly do not act as accompanists here, but on equal with the vocals. They all get their chance to shine – and make the most of it.
If my comments about Alex Bird wearing the influences on his sleeve have sounded like the album is lacking in originality, then let me correct that. Those influences have clearly been absorbed like a sponge by a young man who loves their music, but the compositions and performances on Whisky Kisses are not a regurgitation of everything they (and the classic songwriters) have done. The compositions don’t sound like Cole Porter songs, and the vocals certainly don’t sound like Sinatra (or any of the singers I have listed in the previous paragraph). This is most definitely a young singer acknowledging how much he loves (and has learned from) the past, but looking to the future. Considering the amount of positive reviews that have appeared on various websites and in jazz publications over the last few weeks, that future is going to bright. But, as I said earlier, this is not a review.
Whisky Kisses is available to stream on Spotify and Amazon Music, and the CD is available from https://alexbird007.bandcamp.com/track/whisky-kisses.
Beyond Boundaries 