How does a pixie charmer persuasively put over a nasty little song with grubby little lyrics like "Short people got no reason to live"? Carole J. Bufford, looking like an elfin flapper, approached the tall microphone, looked around for a crate and stepped up. She delivered the sarcastic Randy Newman song as audaciously as if she were a six-foot runway model.

Don't go to Lennie Watts' Under the Covers series expecting imitations of well-known recordings. Selected artists are invited to interpret — not mimic -— favorite albums. Bufford chose Lonely at the Top by Randy Newman, a New Orleans-influenced singer/songwriter who sets down his observations with challenging narratives and dark humor. He creates ironic studies of unpalatable characters — slave owners convincing Africans to come to America in "Sail Away" or extremist nationalists and the ultra-religious in "Political Science," articulating their point of view. Performing, Newman obliquely delivers a moral indignation with deadpan seriousness, his snide phrasing adding dry amusement to a distinctive mix of nostalgia, bitter wit, and outrageous sarcasm.

Bufford took it on, not replicating Newman's singular delivery. Carole J. Bufford is a versatile, theatrical interpreter who finds the sentimental, unexpected turns in her selections. With her expressive face, wide eyes and rich voice, she presents an innocent savvy with red-hot dash. Her rangy voice has compelling passion and subdued honesty. She showed her forceful belt as with the R&B spirit of "Mama Told Me Not to Come." She lounged on the piano for "It's Lonely at the Top" with Nate Buccieri's ragtime accompaniment and added some soft shoe, with tap-dance dynamo Danny Gardiner, to "Simon Smith & His Amazing Dancing Bear."

Singing "Marie," a male confessional, Bufford didn’t try the impossible, changing the gender. She stood still, sang and let the sentiment flow. Her female perspective of a male drunk was totally believable. With "You and Me," a down-home version of "The Folks Who Live on the Hill," (Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II), she told the story of two perky young lovers, following their life together, concluded softly, resigned to the inevitable conclusion.

With Buccieri's potent piano and vocals, Bufford related Louisiana's tradition of rains and flooding, touchingly illustrated by the despair of "Louisiana 1927" paired with "I Think It's Gonna Rain Today," remembering Hurricane Katrina.

Carole J. Bufford scored here, shining her own interpretive light through Randy Newman's provocative songbook.

Elizabeth Ahlfors
Cabaret Scenes
March 15, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org