Most of the time you have to dig to find the killer albums and artists that don’t casually cross your path on the radio, the internet, or TV. That’s the part of this hobby (passion?) I’ve always loved. Even though the Cowboy Junkies album was close to the surface of public consciousness at the time, it took listening to the rest of the record, beyond the semi-hit cover of Lou Reed’s “Sweet Jane,” to fall in love with it. The single reached #5 on the U.S. Modern Rock chart, and The Trinity Session sold in platinum numbers here and in Canada, but if you wanted to understand what you were hearing and put it into some kind of larger context, you had to make the effort to hear the whole thing. Stacey Kent, on the other hand, fell into my ears unexpectedly on an algorithm-provided suggested playlist on a streaming service. Sometimes, you don’t even have to know what you’re digging for to find, as Leonard Cohen put it, diamonds in the mine.
The common thread between the two albums is a truly remarkable female vocalist in front of a small group of musicians, but the similarity ends there. The Junkies mine recognizable, if unorthodox, rock, country, and folk territory, while Ms. Kent is a uniquely gifted jazz singer, born in New Jersey but working primarily in Europe.
Cowboy Junkies, The Trinity Session (1988) – The Junkies are a band of siblings from Canada. The core lineup of Michael, Peter, and Margo Timmins hasn’t changed since they decided to make music together in 1985. Michael writes the songs and plays guitar, Peter handles the drums, and Margo sings like an angel. A melancholy, dusky, spent-time-in-a-few-bars type of angel, mind you. They play their originals, and their well-chosen covers, slowly. Did I say slowly? I meant sloooooooooooooooowly, with hushed, quiet arrangements that sound like they’re recording while trying not to wake a baby sleeping in the next room. Imagine your favorite pop or rock ballad and cut the tempo in half and you’re just about there.
The Junkies first album, the curiously titled Whites Off Earth Now!, was cut in a traditional studio, with some additional studio effects added for seasoning that didn’t quite capture what they do so well. WOEN! got decent reviews but consumers voted with a big thumbs down, even back home in the Great White North. For album number two, the band decided to roll the dice.
You’ll notice the album is titled The Trinity Session, not Sessions. The band recorded the whole thing in one night, with a single microphone and a tape recorder in the cavernous Church of the Holy Trinity in Toronto (To convince the church to let them use the space, they passed themselves off as “The Timmins Family Singers” and told church officials they were recording a Christmas record). Everybody huddled around the one mic, Margo’s vocals were recorded using a discarded PA system they found in the church, and magic happened.
The Trinity Session is the rare album where the distinction between original songs and cover versions is meaningless. The band achieved such a uniquely consistent, flowing, hypnotic sound that everything sounds like an original. The sound of the church - wide, open, echoing, and warm – became a crucial part of the record, and perfectly captured what the studio couldn’t on their debut. During the opening traditional folk song “Mining for Gold,” Margo’s acapella vocal even leaves room for the whoosh of the church’s air-conditioning unit in the background.
Once the music starts, the intensely sympathetic interplay between the band members creates a hypnotic web of sound for Margo to sing over. Drums are most often brushed; the bass adds more melodic pulse than rhythm. There was no keyboard player, but little dabs of color are added with harmonica, accordion, and pedal steel. Margo sings as if she’s remembering a dream or is possibly still in the middle of one. The musical arrangements are so delicate they threaten to fall apart at times, but always hold together and embrace the melody. As wistful as the sound can get, it’s easy to sing along to every song here. The beginning of track 5, for example, sounds like the band is plucking out sparse, disconnected notes, barely hanging on to a recognizable melody by their fingernails, until Margo steps to the mic and you realize it’s a hauntingly dramatic, melancholy version of Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” The Trinity Session is an album that calls for immersion and attention and offers great pleasure to those who are willing to give it the opportunity.
On a bit of a side note, as simply as the album was recorded, it benefits greatly from listening on a high-quality stereo system. Under the right conditions, you hear the role played by the wide-open spaces of the church itself; all the echo, air, and natural reverb; and it’s quite a unique and stunning effect.
EARWORM: "Misguided Angel" (1988) - A favorite that shows off the album's ghostly beauty.
Stacey Kent, Breakfast on the Morning Tram (2007) – First off, the creative team behind this remarkable album deserves a quick mention. Besides Ms. Kent and her singular voice (more on that later), her producer and musical arranger is her husband, U.K. jazz saxophonist and composer Jim Tomlinson. His lyricist, who contributes the words to the four originals on this album, including the title song, is novelist Kazuo Ishiguro, author of the spectacular The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go. Oh, and Mr. and Mrs. are world-class competitive downhill skiers in their spare time. A fascinating power couple, to say the least.
Stacey is a jazz singer by definition, but I find that label applies more to the arrangements than her approach. She doesn’t dive into the blues roots of jazz, like Billie Holiday, or improvise, like Ella. There are no overtly dramatic flourishes to be found here. Her laser-like focus is entirely on the melody of the song she’s singing, and she delivers it with a straightforward, even sweet, tone. By removing any excess emotion from her performance, she magnifies the beauty of every song’s melody, which I find thoroughly compelling. Her phrasing, timing, and diction are so impeccable you can miss how utterly delightful they are on the first listen. You wouldn’t think Stevie Nicks’ “Landslide” would work without the righteous angst of Stevie’s performance with Fleetwood Mac, but you’d be wrong. Stacey’s pure, direct reading exposes the gorgeous melody behind it like a beating heart. Her version of “What a Wonderful World,” sung over lovely finger-picked guitar, sounds like a prayer of pure gratitude.
I have a special shout-out for Mr. Tomlinson’s sparse, but beautifully sympathetic jazz combo arrangements. They never showboat or get in the way, but if you focus in on them, they provide their own consistent delights. The four original songs, with lyrics by Mr. Ishiguro, are stunning. Honestly, I couldn’t immediately dive into the whole album the first time I cued it up because I couldn’t get past the first song, “Ice Hotel.” He gives her lines to sing that are smart, witty, urbane, and surprising, and she delivers them with palpable joy. I’ll be forever grateful to the inner mechanisms of the Qobuz algorithm for bringing this wonderful album to my attention. Technology can be a true friend to music-lovers.
EARWORM: "Landslide" (2009) - Stacey does Stevie, with exquisite results.
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