here’s the thing.
Diana Krall can record whatever she wants to, wherever she wants to and with whomever she wants to.
she could have put out another lush look-of-love kind of record and it would have sold a gazillion copies.
but she didn’t.
for Diana’s return to our ipod, stereos, earbuds, radio and computer waves she chose to work with T Bone Burnett
bringing us a deliciously raw cinematically raunchy recording with some country twang, out of tune piano, heavy drumming, honky-tonk and gorgeous guitar work by Marc Ribot.
a state-of-the-art studio sounding like a brothel basement.
yes. I smirked at the pre-release cover, wondering why of all Ziegfeld Follies stylizations they chose a whorehouse-looking corset-garter-laden image…
but the hair too coiffed, the make-up too perfect, the satin too shiny.
and I was dismissive of a first cursory listen of a track or two over the airwaves. what is this?
But when I sat down and listened from cover to cover I found myself thinking of this as a brilliant sound track to a film.
an aural film. full of precarious images. a butterfly caught in the rain, salty tears, a trail of dreams, crying angels, a lonely avenue, the curtain coming down.
beautifully paced, gutsy, full of surprises, a Disney ride through T Bone Burnett’s 20’s and 30’s complete with, yes, corset and black satin stockings.
and quietly in the centre of the scene, Diana Krall, glad, sad and raggy.