Not exactly a banner year, to my ears at least, but nevertheless some worthy music came out. Because no album, or albums, stood above the pack, I'm doing something different for this Best-Of: These aren't ranked, they're alphabetized:
James Carter: Gardenias for Lady Day (Columbia) — The gifted reedman, who plays a truckload of saxes, clarinets and flutes, released his first album since 2000, a heartfelt and at times edgy tribute to Billie Holliday. The core quartet was augmented by a 10-piece string ensemble, which actually made up a fifth instrumental voice. Fittingly, the spotlight shone on Carter, whose playing blends the old-timey brawn of Coleman Hawkins with forward-thinking harmony and occasional touches of skronk. His raspy tone, especially on tenor sax, gives his playing a noir-esque feel.
Cyrus Chestnut: You Are My Sunshine (Warner Bros.) — The pianist took a tried-and-true, some might say shopworn, format — the piano trio — and really turned out something unique to these times. Rather than post-Bill Evans introspection, Chestnut made a gregarious album that mixed gospel tunes, standards and originals, played with plenty of earthy blues feel. The music is at once old-timey and contemporary. Call it feel-good jazz.
Joe Henry: Tiny Voices (Anti-/Epitaph) — Another installment of the cult artist's heady synthesis of sophisticated melody, obtusely poetic lyrics and moody soundscapes. Henry has carved out a singular stylistic niche we'll call abstract jazz-pop. Although he likes to sprinkle in odd sounds and other avant-gardisms, Tiny Voices remains warm and ear-friendly. www.anti.com
Rickie Lee Jones: The Evening of My Best Day (V2) — An impressive return to form for a venerable artist who had made some bad artistic decisions in recent years. Evening marked her return to songwriting after a six-year lay-off. She's still got it. Her lyrics were more direct, less driven by the street-hipster aesthetic. Jones also tempered the slurs and little-girl coos that had begun to burden her singing. This album suggests a career renaissance.
Daniel Lanois: Shine (Anti-/Epitaph) —- The producer of U2's Joshua Tree and albums by Dylan, Peter Gabriel and others released his first solo album in a decade. It's atmospheric yet visceral, epic but intimate. The introspective, melodic songs, mostly ballads and midtempo pieces, walk a fine line between delicacy and strength, throwing just enough curves to make them unique. Lanois' deft vocals range from high and tender to vulnerable and whispery.
Pearl Jam: Tampa, FL April 13, 2003 — The only intact band that matters from early '90s alt-rock makes all of its shows available in double-CD packages just days after each concert. I loved this show at the St. Pete Times Forum, and a week later I had lasting proof it was a great set. Sound quality is first-rate, the band is in lock step, Ed's amazing, seething and smoldering for two hours.www.pearljam bootlegs.com
Seal: IV (Warner Bros.) — The British star returned after five years — in a big way. This immaculate pop disc brims with grabby, often celebratory hooks made even more seductive by Seals' expressively grainy voice. Trevor Horn's production is lush, huge and crisp. The CD is well paced, mixing sensitive balladry with rousing uptempo numbers. And there's no dead wood.
Wayne Shorter: Alegria (Verve) — The 69-year-old jazz legend continued his remarkable artist rebirth with an album bountiful with melody, sensitive improvisation, savvy instrumentation, ensemble chemistry, terrific arrangements and an array of mood and textures. The saxophonist recasts a couple of his old tunes ("Angola," "Orbits") and has his way with a '30s flamenco piece, a Brazilian classic and a medieval carol.
Luther Vandross: Live: Radio City Music Hall 2003 (J) —- The greatest male pop singer of his generation was felled by a stroke in April. Two months before, he recorded his first live album, a vocal tour de force proving the 51-year-old artist had not lost an ounce of vocal genius since breaking on the scene in the early '80s. Luther sings most of the old ballads, a couple of uptempo things and some new stuff. He wisely employs many of the vocal fills and inflections that are etched in fans' memories, then adds further embellishments that supply new delights. The disc brims with moments that will raise the hairs on your neck.
Warren Zevon: The Wind (Artemis) — A sentimental choice, yes. That this brilliant artist could make such a strong record while dying of lung cancer defies the imagination. (Zevon died just a few weeks after The Wind was released.) He made a living writing about death. Some of these lyrics have the gallows humor so central to the Zevon oeuvre, but overall the disc has a reflective, often tender tone. The singer/songwriter seems to be tying things up and along the way sending love letters to family, friends and fans.
Too Good Not to Mention: Pat Metheny's solo acoustic guitar showcase One Quiet Night (Warner Bros.); the warm, melancholy folk-pop of Fruit Bats' Mouthfuls (Sub Pop); Meshell Ndegeocello's slab of stoner funk, Comfort Woman (Maverick); Andrew Bird's eccentric acoustipop on Weather Systems (Righteous Babe); Chicago guitarist Jeff Parker's experimental post-bop, Like-Coping (Delmark); Starlight Mints' quirk-pop, Built on Squares (Pias America).
Contact Senior Writer Eric Snider at snider@weeklyplanet.com, or 813-248-8888, ext. 114.
This article appears in Jan 1-7, 2004.