Madeleine Peyroux, new darling of the retro-chic generation, brought some baggage to the Park West for a sold-out concert Wednesday.
She's been typecast as something of a Billie Holiday mimic, borrowing the jazz legend's world-weary tone and haunted phrasing. And she's selling lots of records at a certain coffeehouse chain, presumably to folks making impulse CD purchases while sipping a $4 latte. In other words, she's become a dreaded "adult-contemporary" fad, a modest talent who has sold 500,000 copies of her second album, "Careless Love," largely because she sounds vaguely like a more accomplished singer from an earlier era.
But Peyroux and her pliant three-piece band demonstrated that there's substance--and a modestly ingratiating artistic sensibility--beneath the stylish cooing. Indeed, the "Careless Love" album doesn't serve the singer well. Its production is so pristine that Peyroux sounds wooden, a sepia-toned caricature of a classy lounge act.
But on stage, Peyroux is earthier, in an understated way. If not exactly gritty, she isn't afraid to put a sour spin on a blue note. Her phrasing is elastic, but not showy. Her tone is rounded but not soft.
She gives the lyrics exactly what they need, and nothing more.
When she holds a note, it's not a big trumpet blast that says "look at me." It's more of a wan, lonely cry that melts into silence.
On stage, Peyroux put some distance between herself and the facile Holiday comparisons. What the two singers share is a conversational delivery, which enabled Peyroux to make even a wordless phrase such as "Ya-da-do-do-do" sound conversational.
Though she delivered one workmanlike original, "Don't Wait Too Long," she was best when reinterpreting folk, blues and country gems, particularly Leonard Cohen's "Dance Me to the End of Love," Bob Dylan's "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go" and the 1957 Patsy Cline hit "Walkin' After Midnight."
On acoustic guitar, her technique was even more modest than her vocals, yet her feel for counterpoint and rhythmic phrasing suited the material well. Her interplay with the band conveyed intensity even at low volume; the tempos were brisk, the solos on piano, upright bass and brush-stroked drums smartly coherent. They put a pulse and invention into what could have been drab folk-jazz.
Near the end of the hour-plus set, Peyroux introduced "This is Heaven to Me" as a song that appealed to her because it's "the very simplest way to put something."
In the same way, Peyroux prefers a simple and subtle presentation that highlights the integrity of her carefully chosen songs. Her modesty, complete with self-effacing stage presence, may be out of necessity, but she also made it a virtue.