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Dusted Reviews
Artist: Devorah Day Album: Light Of Day Label: Abaton Book Company Review date: Jan. 27, 2004 |
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Emerging on New York’s downtown scene at the tail end of the 1990s, Devorah Day is the heiress apparent to Billie Holiday and Nina Simone. Her’s is a wondrous voice, possessing an incredible range that at one moment guides the listener across the calmest of seas, before plunging them down an octave into a sudden squall. Recorded in 1999, her debut Light of Day, features a collection of standards, including a jaw-dropping and heart wrenching minimalist rendition of “Lover Man,” as well as three of Day’s own compositions, where she showcases the outer reaches of her vocal repertoire – incorporating all manner of phrasing, moans, yelps and scatty improvisation. The whole thing is highly reminiscent of the classic 1960s output of avant-garde label ESP.
Maybe, then, it isn’t so remarkable to discover that Ms. Day is legally represented by none other than ESP founder and music-lawyer Bernard Stollman, who brought her to the attention of her present label, Abaton Book Company. And this in turn may help explain the presence of the legendary altoist Marion Brown, who himself cut several records for ESP and played alongside John Coltrane on Ascension. In fact Brown, who leads the highly unorthodox line-up of bass (David Colding) underpinning a trio of saxophones (Jorge Sylvester and free gospel reedist Booker T contribute alto and tenor), threatens to eclipse Day, putting in a transcendental performance of staggering expression and poise.
That Devorah Day remains relatively unknown in jazz circles is surely a crime. But with the release of Light of Day it is hopefully only a matter of time before her days spent languishing in the shadows are behind her.
By Spencer Grady
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View all articles by Spencer Grady