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Whipsmart Women Kick off Chicago’s 45th Jazz Festival

The 45th Chicago Jazz Festival kicked off its headline events with two erudite individuals, Esperanza Spalding and Patricia Barber. Both worldly, wordy intellectuals, they’re also groovers, sensualists, bad-asses. Night two of the fest tasted barbs from Barber, who claimed she hadn’t been invited since 1992. (In fact, she last appeared in 2002.) Barber alleged her first appearance was heralded by a warning not to sing originals, which she summarily ignored. Originals made up the lion’s share of this rare and substantial set, which comprised six self-penned pieces, several from the ’90s (“Like JT,” “Touch Of Trash,” “Company”) and five standards, if jazz police will permit Sandy Denny’s “Who Knows Where The Time Goes?” and “Black Magic Woman.” The latter she waxed live at the Green Mill on Companion (Blue Note/Premonition 1999) with the insinuating guitar of John McLean, but that chair has long been held by the versatile Neil Alger. Alger contributed lovely acoustic accompaniment to Jobim’s “Triste” and fuzzed-out snark on “Trash,” but the 1968 Peter Green classic, with its heritage as an Otis Rush lift and feature for Santana, was pregnant with shred expectation in Millennium Park. Alger delivered with composure and insouciance (later performing with his own Here And Now, alongside incisive trumpeter Chad McCullough, at the fest’s WDCB Jazz Lounge). Barber’s drummer, Jon Deitemyer, was also additionally booked — clearly a first-call accompanist for vocalists — appearing with up-and-coming singer Isabella Isherwood and pianist Jeremy Kahn. But it was Emma Dayhuff who stood out in tandem with Barber on a stunning duo of “Wild Is The Wind,” during which she eked uncommon resonance and poignancy from her contrabass with hypersensitive arco work. Barber, the ice queen, unapologetically grey and gay (her hair was dark 23 years ago and she insisted her closer “Devil’s Food” was a “gay song”), reminded that she remains a school of one. She hit poised long notes vocally, yet she has a line in sharp instrumentals, too (check out “Crash” from Live: A Fortnight In France, Blue Note 2004), which she sometimes neglects in favor of her skewering observations about contemporary society or folk she either adores or finds insufferable. Michael Jackson, DOWNBEAT September 9, 2025 Photo by Valerie Booth READ THE FULL ARTICLE

2025-09-28T18:35:13+00:00

Chicago Jazz Fest gives established beacons and rising stars a chance to shine

Singer-songwriter and pianist Patricia Barber was singing about that same technoskepticism while Spalding was still in high school. “Company,” off her breakthrough 1998 album, got a suave and sophisticated redux on Friday, Barber preparing the Pavilion Steinway to sound like a hollow banjo and Jon Deitemyer holding down the skittering rimshot groove. No one on the Chicago scene writes music remotely like Barber’s. Who else could reference Hockney, Hopper, Goya and Picasso without eliciting eyerolls (from 2002’s “If I Were Blue”), or write couplets like “Do you think of me like salt? / Do you taste me in your tears?” (from 2008’s “Snow”)? Or smuggle progressive jazz — those lancelet-sharp lyrics, on a canvas of fuzzed-out guitar and progressive harmony — in lounge-listening sheep’s clothing? And yet: Barber has not played the Chicago Jazz Festival since 1992, near the very start of her local career. When she did, she said, she was warned by a member of the festival committee not to play any originals. But on Friday? “I just played a set of all original music,” Barber said, to raucous applause. Her thoughtful colleagues helped those subtleties sing. Like Barber’s music itself, guitarist Neal Algers subtly bucks expectation, from his harmonic slipperiness to étude-like efficiency in his solo passagework off Santana’s “Black Magic Woman.” And bassist Emma Dayhuff has been a high point of every ensemble I’ve heard her in, urging bandmates and audience alike to think deeper, listen deeper. In her first solo, Dayhuff hushed her sound over the course of the solo; the others onstage followed her. The entire Pavilion seemed lean in, hanging off her every note. Hannah Edgar, CHICAGO TRIBUNE  September 2, 2025 Photo by Valerie Booth READ THE FULL ARTICLE

2025-09-28T18:35:13+00:00

10 best singers from Illinois

Patricia Barber is a true innovator in modern jazz, creating music that defies convention and captivates with its depth. Born in Schaumburg, Illinois, Barber has spent decades blending traditional jazz with blues, pop, and even poetic lyricism. Her haunting voice and virtuosic piano skills are at the heart of celebrated albums like Café Blue and Modern Cool, which have earned critical acclaim for their sophistication and artistry. What sets Barber apart is her ability to explore deeply intellectual and introspective themes within her music, pushing the boundaries of jazz while remaining true to its roots. A fixture of Chicago’s music scene, Barber continues to challenge and inspire listeners worldwide, proving that jazz is not just timeless but ever-evolving. - Singersroom.com

2025-09-28T18:35:13+00:00

Best Singers from Iowa

Patricia Barber is an extraordinary jazz musician known for her introspective, intellectual approach to both piano and vocals. Born in Iowa City, Iowa, Barber grew up immersed in music, honing her craft and developing a distinctive style that blends jazz with elements of blues, pop, and avant-garde. Albums like Nightclub and Modern Cool highlight her ability to reinterpret jazz standards while crafting original compositions that challenge the listener both musically and emotionally. Her sophisticated, moody sound has earned her a dedicated following, and her ability to experiment and evolve has kept her at the forefront of modern jazz. Barber’s music is as much about thought and emotion as it is about technical skill, making her a true standout in the jazz world. - Singersroom.com

2025-09-28T18:35:14+00:00

Gigwise Top Jazz Singers of the 2000s

Patricia Barber is an American jazz and blues singer-songwriter renowned for her sophisticated compositions and unique arrangements. Her music often incorporates philosophical and poetic lyrics, setting her apart in jazz. Major Albums: Cafe Blue, Modern Cool, Smash Major Achievements: Multiple jazz awards, known for blending jazz with avant-garde elements.

2025-09-28T18:35:14+00:00

The Cole Porter Mix Lyrics

They say that I don't know love I say, yes, I do They say they are counting Love I say, I am too They mark the years with rings Like a tree, they say I count on smaller things Minutes, seconds, days… __ I wait for late afternoon and you The industrious bunch Through breakfast and lunch Parlay a hedge fun hunge Or two I wait for late afternoon and you The Monday sun softly pales By two Though the bulk of the clerks Thinking diligence works For pension and perks outdo I wait for late afternoon and you If we agree to meet at three The concierge and I will see The shades are drawn The staff is skilled Our lunch prepared The champagne chilled And if we skip the duck confit Your arms and lips will reach For me These walls were meant Never to speak Of souls content Within the week So on this late afternoon With you Other salesmen reserve All the rumors they've heard That this fool may deserve a A review And still I wait and I wait for you I wait for late afternoon an Do you think of me like snow Cool, slippery, and white? Do you think of me like jazz As hip, as black, as night? Do think of me like linen Summer sheets on which You sleep? Do you think of me like ink Skinny words you want to keep? Do you think of me like fat Irresistible as cream On your lips, on your hips Like chocolate, like a dream? Oh, to be the moon! The diamond you can't resist The space between the stars Do you think of me like this? Do you think of me like crack Illegally refined Sunglasses for your eyes? Do you think that love is blind? Do you think of me like salt? Do you taste me in your tears? Do you thik of me like oil Filthy rich, my dear? I think of you like food I think of you like wine I shouldn't like my fingers I'm drinking all the time I think of you like paint Flesh tones and pink I think of you like rhyme So much it makes me think I'm mad about you Do you think of me like sand Warm, southern, and fine? Take me with you in the dark In secret, in your mind Do you think of me like snow School starting in the fall? Do you think of me in spring? Do you think of me at all? will He kiss her on New Year's Eve after the last guests leave then kiss her again, will He peek in the mirror while She knowing He's watching her tease stripping the gown with ease bare as the New Year She so in love with her is He slipping into her dreams rocking her gently to sleep hale as the dawn is He so in love with him is She will [...]

2025-09-28T18:35:14+00:00

The Premonition Years Lyrics

the perfect shade of lipstick a red that belies insouciance carefully weaved into a style eyeliner drawn with an artisan's hand replication makes perfection she's just a button short of trash matching toes and fingers the peek-a-boo shoe manipulation as subtle as the perfume a South Beach tan under a sun-streaked do orchestration and precision the girl works harder than you primitive inspiration packaged in modern disguise disposition permitting a glimpse of the thigh masculine resolve with a feminine plan domination and submission she smells the gas then lights the match stylish deliberation the chattel of Calvin Klein obsession calculation of color and design glamour defined by supply and demand education and graduation she's just a culture short of class a moment of indecision cool wind from the edge of the cliff intoxication feels like love when it looks like this if Truth is the price for a superficial charm the night is laughing watching us turn absolutely nothing into form the season changed and the sky turned gray without the sun there is no night, or day the hours stack like sand in a glass i suppose i should sleep till spring like the grass but there's reason to believe that spring won't arrive there's reason to fear that when you left, I died when i look in the mirror, my face is too white when i check for a pulse, i'm afraid of the quiet definition is blurred by the shadows of white movement is stalled by the absence of light i can't bear the cold without the heat of my blood i can't find my heart without the warmth of your love If i start to cry the tears freeze on my face If i start to smile my skin cracks in place if i start to scream the snow buries the sound i slip on the ice that covers the ground like a snowman, with arms open wide i'll remember the spring i'll remember the light i'm petrified, like stone in the cold but i'll wait forever, frozen, and alone if i were blue like David Hockney’s pool dive into me and glide under a California sky inside your mouth and nose and eyes am I if i were blue like Edward Hopper’s afternoon lift the sash to air the breeze left my summer flush your cheek lie supine beneath the soft and gentle season would that this were that this is more like black dark as darkest indigo sickly sweet and ripe like nothing smothering light bring on the pelting rain palpable sensual pain like Goya in his studio in the thick of night absence is dull and silent if i were blue a pale Picasso blue as beauty is to sorrow let me cover you in sleep and in your melancholy i would give you peace if i were blue when i smile do my eyes scramble and scan off center as the question direct? does the corner of my [...]

2025-09-28T18:35:14+00:00

Mythologies Lyrics

verse should I leave Erebus to his own device what Chaos when the curtain rises and the houselights dim with whitecake on my face the actress backstage contemplates laying a Universal egg still a broken heart is a broken heart and Illumination is in fact Performance chorus In the dark In the cold In the sky I can fly I am old But I can see For miles And miles I am silver I am gold I am white I am blue I am rock I am chaste I am time I am truth When twilight falls among the stars I sit and tinker with your moods I hear your thoughts I move the tides I am your God I am your Muse I can be fire I can be war I am the daughter of Zeus But tonight there won't be light 'cause I can't shine without you Downright tired in this winter white Though my best sleep is dressed in black Ample hours to dream, still I lack Repose, and wander through the night A drink or two, blackjack straight through Till dawn, ever unrequited love Nothing brings peace, Heaven above Send Morpheus to me, for I am due Will you sing softly? Will you keep Watch as the light begins to wane? Steadfast and sweet, will you remain God of my dreams, and let me sleep? cold as stone, possessor of bone-chilling beauty I, alone, wanting but not wanting to be scratching and clawing at this waiting for something to give so give me a sign a shiver, a sigh a look in your eye a reason to live fantasy still captor and captive are we strangers until desire and goddess intrigue a slanting and movement of hips a flush, a warmth of the skin as night falls I wait for breath, for fate the sweet salty taste pressing lips on lips unrequited love is what I know of love spellbound I will stay imagination may be for fools imagination may be cruel to be kind at the end of the day ivory girl chiseled and cooler than clay icy reserve is provocation. will you betray eyes that linger and hold too fast? if you stumble, if the mask should crumble or fall warm blooded after all the longer you stall so shall I last Verse Everything is food, everything is fair game. The second it's gone is the second I crave more animal, vegetable, mineral feed, more fodder, more fuel, more cake and ice cream. In Scythia, where the pickings are slim, I'm gorgeous and grateful it's "in" to be thin. Wan and pale, I court emaciation in high style and endless mastication. With cheekbones and ribs that tighten my skin, wildly attractive and seductive as sin, the closer you come, the more you want me, the more you want, the more you want to be free. There's no slaking of thirst, no quenching of need, and there's never, ever enough to [...]

2025-09-28T18:35:14+00:00

Live: A Fortnight In France Lyrics

did you ever think a piano could fall on your head? do you look over your shoulder at all? on the dark side of passion comes a taste for revenge in the night is there a rustle just under your bed? are the bolts dead? is the phone live? are you wide, wide awake? are you surprised a battle-ax has an ax to grind? it's tit for tat and all's fair in love a mercenary man with a dutiful wife the tables have turned the plot is prime are the lights on? cause the bet's off are you wide, wide awake? i gotcha comin' i gotcha goin' the IRS is on your tail a private dick is in your mail your edifice is starting to crack and peel your girlfriend is starting to panic and steal whatever's left of a small piece of a small pie of a small man with a much smaller life did you mistake "fat and happy" for stupid and blind? do you know that I knew from the start? a tooth for a tooth an eye for an eye this taxidermist has skinned you alive are the dogs in? cause the cat's out are you wide, wide awake? refrain (adapted from poem by Verlaine) Dansons la gigue! J'aimais surtout ses jolies yeux Plus clairs que l'etoile des cieux J'aimais ses yeux malicieux Dansons la gigue! Elle avait des facons vraiment De desoler un pauvre amant, Que c'en etait vraiment charmant! Dansons la gigue! Mais je trouve encore meilleur Le baiser de sa bouche en fleur Depuis qu'elle est morte a mom coeur Dansons la gigue! Je me souviens, je me souviens Des heures et des entretiens Et c'est le meilleur de mes biens Dansons la gigue! there's a piece on the chair a piece in the hall a nice piece of me stuck to the wall divide and conquer the jigsaw in you has left me asunder all over the room there's a piece by the clock clinging awkwardly to time there's a piece at the piano clinging stubbornly to rhyme there's a fun piece of me in a crack in the floor an innocent piece who walked out the door BRIDGE call me a doctor or a structural engineer draft me a past and a future that consent to adhere give me a pill that makes cohesion a pharmacological thing bring me the tape and the twine the blueprint design to fit that scraps and the threads to the feet and the legs there's a piece that was pretty for a moment or two but my mouth and my lips are somehow askew a piece of a hero is behind the TV the piece with the glue is looking for pieces of me there's a piece in Detroit a piece in LA New York is a critic she's funny that way there's a piece prone to panic a big piece is blue all the pieces agree the best piece went with [...]

2025-09-28T18:35:14+00:00
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