|
|
 |
| |
| |
Robin McKelle: a career in jazz that’s about to go large |
McKelle is breath of fresh air
REVIEW: ROBIN McKELLE
Pigalle Club, Piccadilly
ROBIN McKelle didn’t fancy herself as a jazz singer, or so say the interviews and press releases. But, boy, she can sing jazz.
Hailing from the US, where her work is already going down a storm, McKelle took the stage in the Pigalle Club in Piccadilly last Tuesday to showcase her first jazz album, Introducing Robin McKelle.
McKelle’s voice – a soulful alto comparable in style to Sarah Vaughan and Ella Fitzgerald – lends itself perfectly to the songs on her album, a selection of jazz and swing numbers that evoke the heady spirit of smoke-filled American clubs in the 1940s.
Smoke-filled and full of heady spirit the Pigalle wasn’t, however, and it was frustrating to witness McKelle’s performance being largely blanked by dolled-up, ostentatiously-bored West End lovelies gulping glasses of champagne that cost more than my shoes.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the crowd missed McKelle’s joking reprimand after yet another song was greeted with lukewarm applause – “So, I give and you take – is that how it works? Okay then... Well, make of this what you will... We’re now gonna play Go To Hell by Nina Simone...”
While McKelle provided a spell-binding performance of songs from the album and a few surprise covers (including a stunning version of The Beatles’ Eleanor Rigby with a suberb drum solo by Louis Cato), the crowd boozed on and looked pretty.
McKelle’s performance at the Pigalle and her album – which is produced by Willie Murillo, whose previous collaborations include working with Aimee Mann, LeAnn Rimes and the Brian Setzer Orchestra – strongly suggests a career in jazz that is about to go large.
In a decade where the majority of music in all genres has so far has been dominated by style rather than substance – and being photographed drunk in a hat in Camden seems enough to qualify oneself as a musician – it was bordering on the exhilarating to watch an artist of true, old-school quality perform a set shot-through with subtlety, class and (dare I say it) talent.
Over a glass of wine in the post-gig lull (and between jokes about the attention-span of the crowd), McKelle couldn't confirm when she would return to London, but promised that she would.
So, go buy her album, and when she’s back in town go see her. |
 |
|
| |
|
|
|
|
