Lucid Culture

JAZZ, CLASSICAL MUSIC AND THE ARTS IN NEW YORK CITY

An Intimate, Pensive, Guardedly Hopeful Solo Album From Singer and Pianist Lauren Lee

The lockdown derailed Lauren Lee‘s plan to put out a full-band album. So she made a great solo record, The Queen of Cups, streaming at Bandcamp. This intimate, thoughtful album is no less colorful than her work with other musicians. Among jazz pianists who also sing (or jazz singers who also play), she’s at the top of the list, underscored by the fact that she writes her own material. She’s a strong lyricist and has an irrepressible, literary sense of humor. As far as the title is concerned, in the tarot deck the Queen of Cups symbolizes a mother archetype, associated with compassion but also clairvoyance, and the ability to mirror others or oneself.

Lee plays steady, stern, resonant piano chords behind her contrastingly more lively vocalese in the opening number, Cogitation, subtly shifting the ambience toward optimism. She builds a soaring kaleidoscope of vocal harmonies over a minimalist electronic bassline in the anthemic second track, Up in the Air. “Keeping good thoughts and good intentions won’t stop the existential dread,” she demurs, but refuses to cave in to despair.

Lee goes back to piano, flitting and scatting in tandem with the leaping, hypnotically insistent riffs in Mad House. She switches back to electric piano for If I Should Lose You, a lingering, pensively spare tableau which she turns almost imperceptibly into more tropical territory. Lee assesses the process of stepping into a braver alter ego in Another Reality, via a playfully illustrative, decisively successful level of meta.

She goes back to piano for the steady but animated rhythms of Unity Village, descending into lowlit, considerably darker ambience and then a triumphant return. Her take of I Should Care has a low-key bounce and a subtle, souful bittersweetness over tersely bubbling electric piano, with a tinge of distortion on the amp.

Set to surrealistically textured electric piano, Boxes is an imagistic carpe-diem cautionary tale for anyone who might stash a good idea away, only to unpack it later, “coffee-stained and torn into pieces.” After that, Lee builds cautiously and spaciously to the moodily energetic vocalese and piano of Footprints. She winds up the record with Cocoon, artfully constructing an echoey, anthemic web of refracted vocals and keyboard multitracks.

May 9, 2021 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment