Smile

The second of back-to-back solo albums cut in the early '80s, The Brightest Smile in Town presents a more balanced mix of vocal and instrumental tracks than its predecessor, Dr. John Plays Mac Rebennack. While it's fun to hear the great New Orleans pianist romp through "Box Car Boogie" and patiently work his way through the twilight blues of "Pretty Libby," the unexpected treats are the best: a heartsick version of Jimmy Rodgers's "Waiting for a Train;" a Doc Pomus cover, "Average Kind of Guy," that sounds like Randy Newman on a particularly good day; and "Marie La Veau," a highly syncopated bow to one of the Crescent City's many voodoo queens. By the time Rebennack ends Brightest Smile with two gorgeous instrumentals–a lovely take on Harold Arlen's "Come Rain or Come Shine" and "Suite Home New Orleans"–you're reminded just how encyclopedic his knowledge of American music is.

After a five-year hiatus, singer/songwriter Laura Nyro returned with Smile in 1976. On this disc, Nyro's somewhat idiosyncratic writing and performance style is decidedly subdued. In its stead is a light pop and jazz feel similar to that of Maria Muldaur's mid-'70s recordings. Supporting Nyro instrumentally is virtually a who's who of New York and Los Angeles studio stalwarts. While the prowess of folks like Will Lee (bass), brothers Randy Brecker (trumpet) and Michael Brecker (flute/sax), Hugh McCracken (guitar), and Rick Marotta (drums) certainly strengthens Nyro's already laid-back material, it likewise reduces her to sounding like a Joni Mitchell ripoff. The undeniable highlight of Smile is the maturity in the songwriting. It becomes obvious that the half-decade away has done some significant good in revealing a decidedly positive evolution in Nyro's approach to her own life. What's more is that the material on this album seems to come from a place of contentment.