Arguably the most iconic and lastingly influential jazz singer of all time, Billie Holiday expressed an incredible depth of emotion that spoke of hard times and injustice as well as triumph. With accompaniment by some of the finest bands of the era, these classic tracks were recorded during her creative heyday when her voice was at its potent best.
Taken from a couple of sessions taped during 1955-1956, Lady Sings the Blues, Vol. 4 finds Holiday in top form and backed by the sympathetic likes of tenor saxophonists Budd Johnson and Paul Quinichette, trumpeter Charlie Shavers, pianist Wynton Kelly, and guitarist Billy Bauer. And while these autumnal sides bear some of the frayed vocal moments often heard on Holiday's '50s Verve sides, the majority here still ranks with her best material. This is especially true of the cuts from a June 1956 date, which produced unparalleled versions of "No Good Man," "Some Other Spring," and "Lady Sings the Blues." See why many fans prefer the "worn out" Holiday heard here to the more chipper singer featured on those classic Columbia records from the '30s.
This volume of the Classics Chronological series places Billie Holiday's music in historical context to an unusual degree, as her recordings for the Columbia and Commodore labels have until now been reissued separately because of copyright and catalog ownership. The songs parceled together here were recorded at a crossroads in Holiday's career. The setting for the first - in what would constitute great changes in her life and music - was Barney Josephson's Café Society Downtown. Located at 2 Sheridan Square, this was Manhattan's first fully integrated nightclub. Its clientele included a number of politically progressive intellectuals and social activists. When she first appeared at the club on December 30, 1938, Billie Holiday was known as a spunky vocalist who presented lively renditions of pop and jazz standards in what was considered an unusual yet accessible style…
Like a modern day rock star, Holiday's troubles with drugs, the law, and abusive men were almost considered part of what made her art work so well. It's an insulting idea, of course - and one that puts the audience in the position of voyeurs, or worse. The inclusion of Holiday's own tunes like "Don't Explain" and signature pieces like "Ain't Nobody's Business," combined with readings from her recent autobiography during the course of this concert, play to the more maudlin aspects of the singer's life. Holiday is painted as a woman who put up with hard times and abuse for sake of the shreds of love her men would hand her. Yet her exuberance on the uptempo, swinging material is full of attitude and charm. The life and vitality she brings to those tunes is just as real as her much remarked-upon gloomy side. Ultimately, it's up to the listener to decide what to hear as journalism and what to take as artistic interpretation.
The overall feeling on this 1955 recording, which was originally titled Velvet Mood, is strictly after-hours: the party is long over but a few close friends remain for nightcaps and, is that the sun peeking through the windowà? With slow tempo songs outnumbering not-so-slow songs fourteen to four, producer Norman Granz may or may not have had concept album on his mind. Whatever the case, he brought together a brilliant cross-section of cats who evidently put Billie entirely at ease and in the mood - no small feat when one considers her spotty later recordings.
Lady Day's renderings here of "It Had to Be You" and "Isn't This a Lovely Day?" are timeless gems…
This was Billie Holiday's penultimate album, recorded when her body was telling her enough was enough. During the sessions with arranger Ray Ellis she was drinking vodka neat, as if it were tap water. Despite her ravaged voice (the sweetness had long gone), she was still an incredible singer. The feeling and tension she manages to put into almost every track set this album as one of her finest achievements. "You've Changed" and "I Get Along Without You Very Well" are high art performances from the singer who saw life from the bottom up.
Nowadays, the majority of those with two ears and a heart recognise her magnitude, whatever their usual musical preferences may be. This unanimity undoubtedly stems from the fact that Billie's voice reaches our greatest depths. Nobody has been troubled by her range, or by limited technical means the singer was offered, although she never needed anything other than her voice to shake the entire planet. Perhaps because Billie sang simply of love and love's desillusions, and the listeners are moved even without particularly grasping the textes. However, what we may hear is the result of a double paradow: vocal mastery, the placing of each syllabe, the perfect expression of each word confirms a tremendous virtuosity, the fruit of long experience; the emphasis put on the songs' lyrics, not often despairing all considered, come more from the despair of the interpreter than their actual contents…