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Lauren FoxLove, Lust, Fear and Freedom:
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![]() “Are you all ready to be uplifted and cheery? (beat) You’re at the wrong show.” Who needs cheery? This banquet of soulful intensity and unrepentant truth, though painful at times, never grows depressing. It’s compelling, intimate portraiture. An exceptionally restrained Fox keeps gestures and expressions in check. Full attention turns to communicating the deceptively simple lyrics. She is an actress. “Little Green” (Mitchell) is presented as call out to a baby the 21-year-old singer gave up for adoption. Fox quotes a friend of Mitchell’s, “She wasn’t able to live with herself after that.” (In her early thirties, the child found her mother.) Cohen wrote “Chelsea Hotel” for Janis Joplin, whom he encountered riding up and down the elevator while living at the hotel (a pastime they both favored). The two songs take on completely different colors with added information. “Chelsea Morning” (Mitchell), interpreted as the exuberance of new love, is as joyful as “River” is a prayerful plea: “I wish I had a river so long/I could teach my feet to fly.” The delicate musicality of the second phrase sends a chill up my spine, repeated during a clarion rendition of “All I Want.” Cohen’s “Bird on the Wire” is a self-justifying anthem. The searing “Hallelujah”—“Love is not a victory march/It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”—is bluntly potent, a velvet knockout. His somewhat lesser known “I’m Your Man” becomes heady, suggestive, smoldering as offered by the insinuating Fox, fedora cocked, leaning towards women at the front of the room. Heat rises. This is a beautifully realized piece. Jon Weber (musical director/piano), Ritt Henn (bass) and Peter Calo (acoustic guitar) play exceptionally deft arrangements with high craft and infectious pleasure. Watching them grin at Fox is a treat. Alix Cohen |
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