With a backup band that is hard to top, Karen Egert swings right into That Thing Called Love, her voice like smoke wafting over the beat. She is sultry, she is satiny, she is a stylish songstress. Without false vocal theatricality, without losing her connection to the lyrics, Egert’s succinct phrasing and tonal nuances add up to compelling interpretations. The final total is a satisfying roundup of great tunes and musical know-how by a singer who knows her stuff and has the instrumental support to drive the points home.

Egert is drawn to jazz-flavored standards like “What Is This Thing Called Love?,” boosted here by Linc Milliman’s bass intensity. She displays a carefree submission to the rhythms of “All or Nothing at All,” and begins “All of You” as a slow inventory of “the east, west, north, and the south of you” before everyone joins in, adding to the breezy supplication. Egert’s easy swinging on “I Love Being Here with You” is joyfully aided and abetted by Harry Allen’s outstanding sax.

Like most jazz enthusiasts, Egert and her musical pals approach the bossa nova rhythms, like Jobim’s meditative “Dindi,” his spirited “So Danca Samba,” and the smooth “So Nice (Summer Samba),” using the sensual music to drive her vocals. Harry Allen on reeds adds tropical flavor and guitarists John Pizzarelli and Bucky Pizzarelli, Tony Tedesco on drums, Milliman on bass and Monte’s piano deliver the rhythms. The readings are complete and well-rounded.

Ballads like “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning” and “You Go to My Head” are standards for a reason. Their appeal never dies and, in this recording, Egert eschews tragedy to kick in her own fresh approach. In “Wee Small Hours,” she stresses the idea of a lesson learned rather than the despair of Johnny Hartman and Frank Sinatra. “That Ole Devil Called Love” by Roberts and Fisher is good old torch with colloquial lyrics and Egert lights the flame well, while “I Can’t Make You Love Me” (Bonnie Raitt) moves toward a contemporary pop feel. Egert effectively delivers the story of lonely hopelessness in the mood of “I Keep Going Back to Joe’s” (Fisher and Segal). Tony Monte’s tasty piano bits support the sentiment of the song without flashy interruption. It’s a jazz tune with lyrics made for a cabaret singer, but we don’t hear it that often, and Egert delivers a sophisticated, straightforward rendition.

Egert includes an original song, “Could You Be Mine,” her nicely constructed offer of love, and she ends with a favorite, “I Remember You,” the group gathering with authoritative harmony to wrap up these classy ways celebrating That Thing Called Love.

Elizabeth Ahlfors
Cabaret Scenes
March 2009
www.cabaretscenes.org