Rickie Lee Jones Albums (13)
'The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard'
Release Date 1/1/2006
Tracks 13
Label New West
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What The Critics Say
Consulting theologians and Bible scholars during the 1990s, photographer, writer, graphic artist, and everyday mystic Lee Cantelon (aka Pennyhead) assembled a small book presenting the words of Jesus Christ (just Jesus' words, not the stuff surrounding them) in a fitting translation called The Words. He did it for the purpose of presenting those words to people who were not "religious" -- people who were put off by organized religion or even offended by it. In 2005, using artist Marc Chiat's studio (on Exposition Boulevard) as the recording space, he invited a number of musicians to begin assembling backing tracks for a spoken word rendition of his book (Mike Watt was just one participant, reading "The Harvest" over the music). Rickie Lee Jones was invited to participate in the summer of 2006, and in a matter of moments she changed the entire nature of the project. Jones claimed she could not read the words with any authority, but asked if she could sing them. She was left alone in a room with a microphone and, without the text, completely improvised the words from her heart. There were two tracks taken from those sessions, the opening cut, "Nobody Knows My Name," and "Where I Like It Best." Those two cuts appear here unchanged from the original recordings made on Exposition Boulevard, as are two others ("I Was There," "Donkey Ride") recorded later at Sunset Sound -- first takes, no alterations. The rest were done using the same basic principle, with The Words as the inspiration. The end result is easily the most arresting recording of Rickie Lee Jones' labyrinthine career. The songs Jones cut at Exposition Boulevard sat on a shelf for a while, until she contacted producer Rob Schnapf and asked him to recruit the same musicians to go further. The sheer organic nature of some of these recordings is more akin to what indie rock musicians would try to pull off because of budgetary constraints. Understandable, but the end result here is something so completely unraveled, moving, and beautiful, something so unexpected -- even from a latter-day Beat chanteuse like Jones -- that it can only be called art. Certainly many of these songs feel raw, but they are supposed to; it's not artifice, it's inspiration. Check the opener, "Nobody Knows My Name," where a three-chord Velvet Underground-styled vamp gives way to Jones as she channels Jesus walking through the streets of history and particularly Los Angeles, as himself, as disguised as a suicide, as a player, as every woman and man, and comes out truly anonymous. The pain in her voice when she gets to the refrains is the wail we only get from her in live performances. This is likewise the case in "Gethsemane," a tad -- not much -- more polished, and once more with Jones as Jesus, here relating the agonizing experience of the beginning of Jesus' moment of trial before he has been handed over to be put to death. In her voice she says, "I'd like to just sleep awhile" in near whimsy, but the agony is there. In "Lamp of the Body," with Peter Atanasoff, Bernie Larsen, and Joey Maramba in a combined Eastern and Western lilting rock groove as intruding sounds enter the mix, Jones sings as Jesus with the lamp of the body being the eye: "See the darkness shine/How great is the dark/See the dark/And are there not 12 hours of daylight/But if you walk by night/You will fall...." This gives way to the nearly pop-sounding "It Hurts." This track simply has to be heard to be believed. It rocks, it rolls, it stings and stabs, and it breezily calls forth all the complex emotions of being human and divine. It's angry and tender, uncertain and immediate.Is this "Christian" music? Not in any CCM sense. It's punk rock, it's shimmering heat L.A back-court street rock, it's back-porch rock, garage rock, and just plain rock. But Jones is trying in her way to offer proof of the inspiration she found in Cantelon's book, and to relate the humanity of the one called Jesus Christ as an actual person, who is in and around every one of us, no matter how broken, poor, angry, violent, deceitful, happy, or wealthy. There is no new agey overtone to this set. And besides all that, it rocks, it rolls, it swings and strolls. This is pop music from the jump, but it's pop that would never, ever be considered for play anywhere except on the home jukebox. And there is no Christian-ese; probably some fundamentalists who want their God held above street level, up in the heavens, will find this offensive, but that's too damn bad. The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard feels raw and immediate, and most of all, it rings true. The music here was made because Jones had to make it. There isn't any calculation here and New West should be applauded for putting this baby on the market. The songs on this record feel like they come from the street in order to go back there, not to witness or testify, but simply to be there as a witness to life in the process of spending itself. The Jesus of this record isn't a Christian; he warns people (as he did in the Bible) to be wary of the religious. It's very much a Los Angeles album, but it translates in heart to Chicago, Detroit, New York City, Miami, Baltimore, or anywhere else. On "Elvis Cadillac," the hallucinatory Elvis, or perhaps Jesus, is writing a letter to his father about all that has transpired and how he wishes he could just sing his song; it's strange and winding and faltering and beautiful. On the closing track, "I Was There," a nearly eight-and-a-half-minute tome is performed completely solo on guitars and whispering keyboards in a circular chord set that wouldn't have been out of place on Van Morrison's Astral Weeks. She is speaking to Christ in reverie, in a love song of a different kind, but a true love song nonetheless: "Most of all I loved your hands/I loved them so much it hurt/And all the bartenders knew your name/And all the pimps knew your car...and we were blessed/Yes we are...and I was there where Jesus walked." What's amazing is how easy to believe she is. She is speaking in her own kind of tongues here, and we are all the richer for it. This is the least polished and crafted recording of Rickie Lee Jones' career, and it stands alone in her catalog. It's a ragged kid in ripped blue jeans singing her heart out to you without drama or falsity. How can it be anything less than a masterpiece? ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
'The Evening of My Best Day'
Release Date 10/7/2003
Tracks 12
Label V2
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What The Critics Say
On her first offering of new, self-penned material in six years, Rickie Lee Jones offers songs from the font of the well. No covers, no live tracks, just an honest to goodness studio offering of fine songs that underscore Jones reputation as the most wonderful kind of idiosyncratic songwriter. And she owes George W. Bush for it -- she began writing again in frustrated and indignant response to Bush's hotly contended election to the highest office in the land -- one listen to "Tell Somebody (Repeal The Patriot Act)," a jumping gospel and soul tune, is all the proof one needs. But The Evening Of My Best Day is not merely a political album, it is one of poetics and grace, threaded through with jazz, folk, blues, R&B, and rock, all siphoned through Jones' vocal and lyrical strainer. With production help from the gifted guitarist David Kalish (who worked on her masterpiece, Pirates), Jones has crafted an utterly compelling, even riveting, selection of tunes that go from bright to opaque, to dark and back again by album's end. Her choice of studio musicians and backing vocalists is impeccable as well. Players like Fender Rhodes king Neil Larsen, Bill Frisell, Kenny Wollesen, and backing vocalist Grant Lee Phillips, whose Fender gives "Bitchenostrophy," a jazz tune, a gorgeous Brazilian samba lilt. David Hidalgo's acoustic guitar, in commingling with Kalish's electric, stand in juxtaposition with Rene Camacho's acoustic bass and a small string section, to offer a modern day folk tale with a melody that seems to come out of the ether of time. On "It Tasks You There," Jones employs Nels Cline on electric guitar with Kalish playing dobro in a gorgeously textured exhortation against materialism and toward a practical spiritual awakening that is highlighted by backing vocals from Syd Straw and Phillips. Jones' singing is more disciplined than ever before, giving her sometimes visionary lyrics the edge they need to get over -- such as on the bluesed-out "Mink Coat At The Bus Stop," with a bridge that seems like it was grafted from another song yet fits airtight, like a worn and beloved leather glove lined with silk. On the title track, Jones addresses the period of her creative drought and how she was perceived and ridiculed by those on the outside. But it's a song of tenderness and empathy, utterly without avarice or anger -- just empathy, and forgiveness. In many ways, The Evening Of My Best Day is a revisiting of the scope, textures, and vision of Pirates. But it is not a look back. Where that recording addressed romantic love, this one addresses love for the human race with all its quirks and shortcomings, from the point of view of one who lives there everyday. It is alternately intimate and cinematic -- in an indie film way -- and it is breathtakingly, unapologetically and unmistakably moving and true and elegant. And does it ever swing. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
One of the more eclectic souls when it comes to the outskirts of adult contemporary pop, Rickie Lee Jones originally didn't foresee this 2001 concert from Colorado being released. However, the disc is a welcomed array for die-hard fans and newcomers alike. With most of the songs running over five minutes, certain numbers take on a life of their own, particularly the supporting solos on "Weasel and the White Boys Cool." Opening with a rather rollicking "Rodeo Girl," the singer opts for a quieter, jazzier feel on later numbers such as "Just My Baby." There is a slight problem on the song, though, as her voice tends to get lost in the mix slightly, but such is the case with live shows and recordings of them. While touching on most of her more famous tracks, including "Chuck E.'s in Love," a few songs tend to get swallowed in a Muzak fashion, as is the case with "Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying." It's a small price to pay, though, for the following Caribbean-tinged duet with Lyle Lovett on "Love Is Gonna Bring Us Back Alive." In "Coolsville," she sings that "the real singer's back in town." After hearing this album, listeners would agree that she definitely has a point. ~ Jason MacNeil, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Not since Billie Holiday has there been a vocalist who so completely transforms a song into her own. On It's Like This, eclectic folkie Rickie Lee Jones envelops standards, showtunes, '70s soul, and even slick jazz-rock, interpreting them with her familiar childlike, breathy shouts. In a very similar vein as 1991's Pop Pop, Jones pulls together a collection of diverse songs from throughout the 20th century and gives them a sparse, fragile spin, kind of like Diana Krall and Björk sharing coffee at an all-night diner. Produced by Bruce Brody (who has also worked with Maria McKee and Bette Midler), this album is really a showcase for the dynamic vocalist -- her voice pitching and yawing like a sloop far out at sea. Several notable artists scatter themselves unobtrusively throughout the album like Joe Jackson, Ben Folds, John Pizzarelli, and Taj Mahal; each lend a subtle bassline or harmony vocal, cautiously not stepping on any of Jones' delicate lines. Her passionate, earthy version of Marvin Gaye's "blaxploitation" hit "Trouble Man" is as soulful as her cover of the Beatles' "For No One" is pleading, each reaching out to the listener like a whisper from an inch away. Jones' unmistakable style is unlike anyone else's, and that fact alone will turn away some potential listeners; however, for fans of gentle jazz-pop, It's Like This is an intimate, dreamy wander through the songbooks of the last century. ~ Zac Johnson, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Ghostyhead finds Rickie Lee Jones in the odd position of following a younger generation, as its languid trip-hop beats suggest that she has been listening to Portishead, Tricky, and Beth Orton. It is certainly a precarious situation, since she could seem out of touch and old-fashioned, but it is a makeover she pulls off surprisingly well. Jones tends to follow the trippy, free-form structures of trip-hop, which means the melodies occasionally meander and the lyrics are more impressionistic than usual, concentrating on the overall effect instead of the details. There are still more solidly constructed songs than atmospheric instrumentals, which gives the album an anchor, making the electronic echoes and rolling beats all the more effective. Although the songs aren't among Jones' best, the musical adventurousness of Ghostyhead -- which manages to be contemporary without sacrificing her style -- makes the album a revitalization of sorts. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Rickie Lee Jones "unplugged" -- in fact, solo with an acoustic guitar or piano on all but a couple of tunes -- Naked Songs is otherwise a retrospective concert album on which Jones cherry-picks songs from her five studio albums, including the hits "Chuck E.'s in Love" and "Young Blood," and others from her breakthrough debut record. The studio album arrangements always tried to support and augment Jones' idiosyncratic writing and playing style, which sounds less unusual when she is simply accompanying herself, and in many ways more effective. "Altar Boy," a previously unreleased song, strays into Leonard Cohen territory, mixing religion with eroticism. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
'Traffic from Paradise'
Release Date 9/14/1993
Tracks 10
Label Geffen
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What The Critics Say
"Just give me many chances ... time to learn to crawl," sings Rickie Lee Jones on this, her fifth album of new material in 14 years. Clearly, she's had a lot of chances already, and some have paid off big, notably her first two albums, Rickie Lee Jones and Pirates. Here, however, Jones has made a record of what sound like rough performances of musical ideas that might at some point become songs and then, with some work, acceptable recordings. As it is, the record is vague and unfocused, only aspiring to coherence when someone other than the singer/songwriter/producer is heard from, such as on the two songs co-written by Leo Kottke. Too much of the time, Jones sounds like she's singing half-forgotten songs in the calm aftermath of an all-night party, and the result is wispy and fragmentary, even when, on David Bowie's "Rebel Rebel," you know there's a real song in there somewhere. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
An eclectic collection of covers from one of jazz-pop's most eclectic performers, Pop Pop travels from the stage to tin pan alley through Jimi Hendrix's sky. Rickie Lee Jones cradles each of these songs with her pleading, gentle voice, backing them with subtle orchestration courtesy of notable performers including Robben Ford, Joe Henderson, and Charlie Haden. Her attention to love songs of the '40s and '50s demonstrates almost a longing for simpler times and simpler love, and these qualities are echoed in the treatment of songs like "My One and Only Love" and "I'll Be Seeing You." Her subdued take on the psychedelic Jimi Hendrix screamer "Up From the Skies" is slowed to a bluesy acoustic number, while the bratty refrain from Peter Pan's "I Won't Grow Up" seems blushingly sweet. While fans of the folk styles she demonstrated with her 1979 self-titled debut might not see as much merit in these soulful jazz interpretations, it still demonstrates Jones' ability to evolve and her unwillingness to be pinned down into one category. ~ Zac Johnson, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Five years after the disappointing The Magazine, Rickie Lee Jones returned to form with Flying Cowboys, which shared much of the playful, childlike charm of her debut, Rickie Lee Jones, and some of the musically diffuse, lyrically ambitious form of its follow-up, Pirates. From the opening track, "The Horses," which suggested a mother's delight with her child as much as a lover's devotion, Jones reintroduced the joyous tone of her early work as well as establishing the Western theme that would run through the album -- cowboys, rodeos, horses, deserts -- without adding up to an actual storyline. The easy rhythms and lazy, flexible singing on the first few songs were reminiscent of Laura Nyro's work with Labelle on their Gonna Take a Miracle album, after which Jones branched out into reggae and folk-blues, coming up with an affectionate bluesman voice on "Ghost Train." "Satellites," the college radio hit, used the sprung rhythms and surprising choral parts familiar from her popular early songs. If Jones could be obscure and unfocused as a writer, that weakness was also her strength, since it was an expression of the imagination that also produced her most striking musical effects. Producer Walter Becker may have helped keep things from getting as grandiose as they had on The Magazine, but it was really the artist herself who managed to rein in from that album's self-importance. If what resulted was not as accomplished as Pirates, it was the most accessible and enjoyable music Jones had made since her debut. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
After the critical (and commercial) success of her debut two years earlier, Rickie Lee Jones had a lot riding on her sophomore album, Pirates. From the opening track, "We Belong Together," Jones served notice that she was willing to challenge herself and experiment with more unusual, complex song structures. Her unique phrasing and style reflect her interest in beat poets and the bohemian lifestyle, and on this album she relies on more obscure imagery than the direct, detailed observations on comrades used on her first album. There are a wide range of musical influences represented (rock, jazz, soul), but the acoustic arrangements are more piano-based than most of her other albums. While there is an undercurrent of reflection on failed romances, Jones also reveals her playful side with songs like "Woody and Dutch." The musical and lyrical variety on the album is best represented in the album's centerpiece, "Pirates (So Long Lonely Avenue)," where she moves through mood and tempo changes with ease. Although the songs may not immediately grab the listener, the lyrical and musical complexities ultimately make this album more rewarding with every listen. ~ Vik Iyengar, All Music Guide
