The Essential Melody Gardot
Who is Melody Gardot, and how is it best to describe her musical identity? It’s a tough question to tackle because on one level it sounds so simple, but, on another, no. What easy answer can one offer about an artist of her caliber and depth, with her singular history and estimable body of work? The task remains daunting even after sitting down with this expansive collection of her music, and letting it flow, song after song, like water rushing over stone (to quote a Gardot lyric.) One is tempted to simply push Play, point to the speaker cone and say, “See?”
Among the elements that most distinguish Melody Gardot and her music — her voice, her songs, her overall conception — a few revelations push their way to the front of the line. Like the idea that her approach feels timelessly original and free of category, and yet she is clearly akin to an enduring vocal tradition of cool mood, hushed intimacy, and self-possessed femininity. Think Billie Holiday, Peggy Lee, Edith Piaf, Blossom Dearie, Chris Connor, Shirley Horn, Astrud Gilberto…many others. Theirs is a style of minimal gesture and maximum air. It’s one that continues to cross generations and works in different languages. One that has yet to lose its vibrancy or appeal.
That Gardot found a clear and abiding connection to this legacy figures prominently into her origin story. As part of a slow and painful recovery process following a debilitating accident at 19 years old, she had to recover memories and relearn motor and communication skills. Finding herself overly sensitive to light and sound, music therapy proved the most effective recuperative tool, the “lightning bolt” (as she calls it) that brought her back. “I was singing and writing songs before I remembered how to speak. The message is music is all-powerful force.” The music she listened to — and in which she discovered her identity — was guided by restraint and delicacy. Within years of her recovery, she launched her career, growing up in public, developing her sound and songwriting and stagecraft, all in a spotlight that can be unfairly unforgiving at the first misstep. Since then, she has leaped and changed course, but never faltered.
Who is Melody Gardot? The answer is in the music.
This collectionis much more than a mere best-of. It is an album made from a 14-year run of albums, generously comprised of 25 tracks selected and sequenced by Gardot herself. “I tried to create a vibe as one would with a set list, especially for the vinyls, so that each side has a mood,” she notes. One can’t argue with the choices. A consitent, spell-casting effect never fades.
The majority of the tunes are drawn from Gardot’s six studio recordings, from her major label debut Worrisome Heart (2008) to the latest as of this writing, her collaboration with Brazilian pianist Philippe Powell, Entre eux deux (2022.) A few are special remixes or versions that have not been readily available, such as her half-sung, half-spoken rendition of Elton John’s “Love Song” (originally on 2020’s Sunset in the Blue), with trumpeter Ibrahim Maalouf contributing emotive filigree. A number highlight Gardot’s multilingual skills, intoning in French (“La chanson des vieux amants”, “La Vie en Rose”) and Spanish (“La Llorona”) with the ease and flow of a native speaker.
Four onstage recordings add live punch to the set, capturing the fun and immediacy of her concerts (“I love the vulnerability of a live performance ,” Gardot states. “It’s raw and honest.” It’s there in her colorful storytelling introducing “Les étoiles”, a tune she co-wrote with Grammy-winning songwriter Jesse Harris. In her endowing Bill Wither’s chestnut “Ain’t No Sunshine” with a late night, push-pull feel. In her lo-fi, rock leanings on “Bad News,” taken from 2015’s Currency of Man and sashayed in front of an enthusiastic Dutch audience — horn section adding soulful urgency.
Two tunes serve as a special lagniappe, neither has been released until now. “La Llorona” is a haunting Mexican ballad rife with tragedy and endless verses. Gardot chose to perform it to an appreciative crowd in Mallorca in 2019 with gentle guitar-and-cello accompaniment. “First Song” is a doleful reading of an Abbey Lincoln/Charlie Haden composition featuring the bassist counting off the take with a delicate arco intro, then settling in behind Gardot’s vocal. (To this day, Gardot treasures the opportunity to have worked with Haden, lamenting the fact he remains better known overseas. “I know till the end Charlie was cookin’ over here in France. They knew him and still love him. But I would go back to L.A. and I’d say, I’m going to go cut with Charlie. And people were like, Charlie who?”)
Other treats beg mention, like the understated, voice-guitar-and-strings approach to the well-traveled “Moon River”, Gardot steering surprisingly close to the original, Breakfast at Tiffany’s version (then suddenly one recognizes the deep shadow she has unexpectedly thrown on it.) Like Alan Broadbent’s tastefully precise string arrangement on “This Foolish Heart Could Love You” and Vince Mendoza’s on “Our Love is Easy.” Like the wide range of voices and emotional flavors Gardot can call on to help deliver a slow-build, gospel song (“Morning Sun”); an innocent, folk-like ballad (“Sweet Memory”); or a Brazilian-inspired romp with a playful scat moment (“If the Stars”.)
It’s difficult to avoid commenting on each track. There are details inside the details, and there are no sleepers here. Push play and make your own discoveries.
See?
— Ashley Kahn, June 2024 Ashley Kahn is author of A Love Supreme: John Coltrane’s Signature Album, and other books on music.