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CD review: Norah Jones
By Geof Wollerman
gwollerm@mscd.edu

Norah Jones Not Too Late (Blue Note, 2007)

Norah Jones’ knack for evoking certain timeless eras of American innocence has always been one of her biggest draws. Even when fans discovered the sultry young diva was the daughter of sitar legend Ravi Shankar, to many she was still just a love-struck girl from a north Texas town.

With her first two albums, Come Away With Me and Feels Like Home, Jones displayed her ability to combine the ache of blues and country with the creative disciplines of jazz. Her lyrics were wistful and sexy, and she could just as easily recall the smoky confines of a cabaret as the cool trickle of a country creek.

“I tried to quit you, but I’m too weak / waking up without you, I can hardly speak at all,” Jones sings on Feels Like Home’s “In The Morning.” She is tortured and electrified by the prospects of love, and her naiveté is challenged by the reckless nature of romance. Lying on couches, fellow baggage-bearers nod knowingly and quietly sing along.

Unfortunately her newest, Not Too Late, sounds more like a missive by an artist hung out to dry – a missive, if you will, by damaged goods. Capable of expressing the inexplicable weight of love, Jones suddenly sounds crushed by it.

“She says love in a time of war is not fair / he was my man, but they didn’t care / sent him far away from here / no goodbye, no goodbye,” she laments on the first track. Following this ballad, a muted trumpet lends its eerie wailings to track two – a honky-tonkish tune that ominously repeats the phrase, “We’re gonna be sinkin’ soon.”

Though Not Too Late does have a few nuances that recall the things romantics love about Jones, the thrill, it seems, is gone. Where are the notes that force single tears, the lyrics that demand lost reverie?

One ditty, “My Dear Country,” gives a clue to Jones’ woeful and flat thematic impetus: In a singsong voice she describes ghosts on Halloween night and how she covers her eyes, knowing they’ll eventually be gone.

“But fear’s the only thing I saw / and three days later it was clear to all / that nothing’s as scary as Election Day,” she sings.

Jones continues with her dark musings: “Who knows maybe the plans will change / Who knows maybe he’s not deranged.” Loopy calliope music follows, and the song ends with Jones expressing gratitude for the freedom to sing.

In the hands of another artist – Tom Waits – the track could be darker, funnier and infinitely more effective. Coming from the small-town world of Jones, it is strikingly out of place.

If Not Too Late is an abstract commentary on politics, then it is too hollow to critique. Besides, the only music that ever inspired activism was angry rock and roll, not dreary doom and gloom from the jazz world.

All may not be fair in love and war – and maybe this is her point – but it seems only fair to her fans that Jones stick to the world of tortured love and not waste her time with punditry.