A Night with Nicole Henry was not only a celebration of the singer Nicole Henry’s long overdue debut at the venerable jazz club, Birdland, but also a celebration of songs from her most recent recording, Time to Love Again, and a retrospective look at highlights from her 20-year career. Her powerhouse quartet led by ShedrickMitchell on piano, with Charles Haynes on drums, Eric Wheeler on bass, and Keith Loftis on sax, was nothing short of spectacular on the consistently inventive, evocative, and surprising arrangements and provided the perfect backing for Henry’s distinctive, irresistible blend of pop, soul, and jazz. The choice of material was another important element of the wonderful show she created.
She opened with “Almost Like Being in Love” (Frederick Loewe, Alan Jay Lerner, from Brigadoon) in an irrepressibly uptempo version, set aflame by Mitchell burning up the keys. Unfortunately, on the first couple of numbers, the singer’s voice was placed much too far back in the mix so her sound was muffled and we were left to marvel at the instrumentals. Her wonderful take on James Taylor’s “Your Smiling Face” (which firmly placed Taylor within the pages of the Great American Songbook if he is not there already) was marred by the same weak vocal mix. This was a particular pity because having heard the recording of the song, it would surely have been one of the highlights of the night.
The sound righted itself on the next number, “How Glad I Am” (Jimmy Williams, Larry Harrison), in tribute to the great Nancy Wilson who received her first Grammy for it. Henry personalized it and presented a stunning reinvention, richer and deeper than even Wilson’s original classic. The singer’s obvious taste in song selection allowed for some delightful surprises, none more effective than “Midnight at the Oasis” (David Nichtern); the singer infused it with an eroticism only hinted at in cartoonish ways in previous incarnations. The luscious, lascivious story dripped from her lips as each phrase pulsed through the room. A hypnotic bass solo led into Billy Childs’s “My Love Is,” first recorded by Little Willie John in 1959 and was soon joined by the singer in a smoldering, syncopated conversation in yet another transformative arrangement.
A throbbing, seductive take on Irving Berlin’s evergreen, “What’ll I Do” was further proof of what seems to be a superpower of this singular vocalist—to have an aphrodisiacal effect on even the most moribund of classics. Tying it to an aftereffect of COVID with its quarantines and lockdowns, she took a lightning-fast dive into “I Didn’t Know What Time It Was” (Richard Rodgers, Lorenz Hart) that allowed each musician to shine in solos, first in her sly interplay with Loftis’s saxophone, then the spotlight was stolen sensationally by Wheeler’s fiery bass, before sliding into an electrifying keyboard solo by Mitchell. It was a particular delight to watch the other musicians (and Henry) react to their leader’s virtuosic playing. She then resurrected Sade’s “Is It a Crime” (Sade Adu, Andrew Hale, Stuart Matthewman) with a noirish sax deepening the cinematic melodrama she created. As with so many of the numbers in the show, her interpretation was thoughtful and smart and nuanced. Everything worked to perfection on the song, right down to the echoing reverb on her vocal at the end.
Then came the only song I could have done without. I think it might be time to retire (or at least send on an extended hiatus) “Feeling Good” (Anthony Newley, Leslie Bricusse, from The Roar of the Greasepaint—The Smell of the Crowd) It is one of the most overdone songs in the cabaret repertoire, and while the singer’s attack was perfectly presentable, it offered little that was new or exciting. It was, admittedly, a crowd pleaser but one this writer could have done without, especially in a set so otherwise filled with well-chosen treasures and delights. She got right back on track with a brilliant tribute to Nina Simone, singing a haunting “Wild is the Wind” (Dimitri Tiomkin, Ned Washington) and staking a claim for her personal ownership of the song.
Closing the set with what she called a “boogaloo” in a blaze of glorious funk, she sang “Won’t Be Long” (J. Leslie McFarland) which I previously knew from Aretha Franklin and Dusty Springfield in the early ’60s. The wildly exciting number was fueled by a roof-shaking display of talent on the drums by Haynes, followed closely by sizzling turns by each musician before being wrapped up with spine-tingling vocals. She turned to the Nancy Wilson songbook for her encore with “Don’t Take Your Love from Me” (Henry Nemo) first sung by Mildred Bailey in 1940 and sung here with a passionate and timeless elegance that is the sign of a true star.
Nicole Henry combined the glories of pop music with the distinctive trappings of jazz in ways as entertaining as anyone on the current scene. It was truly a pleasure to hear her sing.
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Presented at Birdland Jazz Club, 344 W. 44th St., on July 10, 2023.
Gerry Geddes has conceived and directed a number of musical revues—including the Bistro- and MAC Award-winning "Monday in the Dark with George" and "Put On Your Saturday Suit-Words & Music by Jimmy Webb"—and directed many cabaret artists, including André De Shields, Helen Baldassare, Darius de Haas, and drag artist Julia Van Cartier. He directs "The David Drumgold Variety Show," currently in residence at Manhattan Movement & Arts Center, and has produced a number of recordings, including two Bistro-winning CDs. He’s taught vocal performance at The New School, NYU, and London’s Goldsmith’s College and continues to conduct private workshops and master classes. As a writer and critic, he has covered New York’s performing arts scene for over 40 years in both local and national publications; his lyrics have been sung by several cabaret and recording artists. Gerry is an artist in residence at Pangea, and a regular contributor to the podcast “Troubadours & Raconteurs.” He just completed a memoir of his life in NYC called “Didn’t I Ever Tell You This?”
