In times of upheaval, I lean on touchstones–works of art that have shaped me and the continue to be sources of inspiration, influence, and solace. It might be rereading a favorite novel, a cherished poem, a movie, or (especially often) a favorite album with a good pair of headphones.
I have a light voice. Growing up with lots of exposure to Broadway-style singing, I soon gathered that my voice type was not made for that style of singing. It’s easy to extrapolate that there’s something wrong with a voice that doesn’t fit into the big soloist style. And even as I started listening to jazz singers, my first exposure was to the big voices of Joe Williams, Mark Murphy, Sarah Vaughan, Carmen McRae.
Enter the amazing Chet Baker. Does he have a chest voice? It’s not clear. He sings most often in a beautiful, light, clear head voice. His singing rapidly became, and remains, my most important sonic model.
That’s not to overlook the music making – consistently outstanding and so controlled. The West Coast Cool school of jazz in the 1950s might be criticized for its lack of dynamic range – and certainly the genre’s pendulum swing away emphasized more dynamic and driving style. But to my ear, the clarity, melodicism, and sophisticated simplicity exemplify a treasured mode of music-making.
The specific album of Chet Baker’s that most captured me is actually a late-80’s compilation called “Let’s Get Lost: The Best of Chet Baker Sings.” With extensive liner notes by Will Friedwald, the CD version collects 20 cuts from the mid-1950’s, all previously released on various albums. I still think it’s the best vehicle to dig deep into Chet’s singing (and his frequent overdubbed trumpet counterpoint parts). There’s more to fall in love with on other albums (like the great scat solos on “It Could Happen To You”) but this album, to me, is where to start and where I so often return, making it a touchstone for me as a singer, as an arranger, and as a listener.
Touchstones is an ongoing series of posts I’ll be writing during the COVID-19 season, reflecting on the works of art that support me in times of upheaval. I encourage you to make a list of your own “touchstones” and if you like, share them with me to publish here.