Claire Martin

Claire Martin and Richard Rodney Bennett

A relaxed duo, both accomplished performers, offering up a delightful selection of songs, some rarely heard, provides the perfect form of entertainment for a venue that is fast regaining its popularity with an excellent choice of artists.

Eight years have passed since Claire Martin, jazz vocalist supreme, teamed up with Richard Rodney Bennett, highly rated composer and pianist, during which time their elegant presentation has brought them admiration in both London and New York, where they will be appearing at the Algonquin for two weeks at the end of May.

Their first set, entitled Witchcraft, features the music of Cy Coleman, a composer and pianist, like Bennett, who provides some interesting background material when introducing the lesser known of his songs. The second half produces a mixture of well chosen familiar and unfamiliar offerings, some swingers, some point numbers, both of which Martin handles with consummate ease.

It is a refreshing change to hear a singer with piano accompaniment rather than a complete rhythm section and Bennett’s playing is perfection, which had me wondering why we are not treated to a piano feature or two as opposed to him sharing the vocalising on several of the songs. The occasional verse and duet is ideal and works well, such as on the ballad Sweet and Slow, where their two voices blend beautifully, but singing solo on around half a dozen offerings is maybe a few too many.

“When Shirley Horn died, I didn’t want it to be the end of that. I wanted to do my own little tribute, because she has given me so much.” Thus Claire Martin explaining the genesis of this album, which comprises eleven songs connected with the great singer/pianist, plus an original specially written in tribute to her by Martin herself and her producer Laurence Cottle, and a song by Ian Shaw inspired by a Horn/Miles Davis recording session. Martin’s vocal art has always been notable for it’s unaffected, almost conversational warmth and intimacy, the result of a sympathetic intelligence that enables her to identify the emotional core of a song and infuse her version with a precisely appropriate degree of sentiment, and since this rare and valuable skill lies at the heart of Horn’s appeal, too, this project was never going to suffer from the tribute’s album’s besetting sin: contrivance. Martin’s versions of such songs as The Music That Makes Me Dance, If You Go, Forget Me and The Sun Died - archetypal, often achingly slow Horn staples – are just as affecting as their templates, whether they’re subtly combining a wry acceptance of love’s vicissitudes with a bruised but defiant optimism, or simply and touchingly confessing undying adoration for a perhaps unreliable lover. Martin’s band – pianist Gareth Williams, growling but nimble bassist Cottle, drummer Clark Tracey, supplemented or replaced from time to time by various combinations of flugel-horn player Gerard Presencer, guitarist Jim Mullen, saxophonist Nigel Hitchcock, acoustic bassist Steve Watts and percussionist Massimo Marraccini – perform flawlessly throughout, self-effacingly enough in their accompanying role to ensure that Martin’s mesmerising performances capture and hold the attention, but sparkily assertive and muscular where required for solo duties. In short: a gem of an album, pulling off the difficult feat of simultaneously showcasing Martin’s unrivalled vocal gifts (crystal clear diction, sureness of emotional pitch chief among them) and celebrating the extraordinarily moving quality of Horn’s music. Strongly recommended.

The voice and style of Claire Martin is quite unlike that of Shirley Horn. Nor does she have the same dramatic intensity and poignancy that was evident in Shirley’s singing, particularly during her latter “comeback” years. But this heartfelt tribute to Shirley by Claire has her taking songs Shirley performed at different stage in her career and interpreting them very differently. The result is wholly listenable – a happy hour of music.

The title song with its sad story, starts with only Gareth Williams’ piano backing, and when Laurence Cottle’s bass and Clark Tracey’s drums join in, a measured pace is maintained. Forget Me is given an uppish treatment, highlighted by a fine Williams solo. Everything Must Change, which always reminds me of Stevie Wonder’s All In Love Is Fair, sees Jim Mullen’s guitar artistry added, and a Latin beat that turns it into something optimistic. Likewise Travellin’ Light gets a good groove. Claire employs admirable restraint on The Music That Makes Me Dance, its yearning mood illustrating her skilful use of intervals. She lets rip in a more customary manner on All Night Long, which swings in ¾ and features facile flugelhorn from Gerard Presencer. Gerard also adds his eloquence to Claire’s tender, wistful, perfectly-phrased version of one of those gifts from France, If You Go. Leon Russell’s eminently singable A Song For You is her hottest outing of this set, with a matching Mullen guitar contribution.

At track 9, the salute extends to Slowly but Shirley, a Martin composition in literate praise of her idol. Here the group becomes a quintet, introducing a pleasurable alto solo by Nigel Hitchcock. Claire then gives her all to a rarely-sung Rodgers and hart ballad, You’re Nearer, building in power with guitar backing. In L.A. Breakdown, after a long, telling, non-tempo verse, we get to hear the bluesy sides of both Mullen and Martin – not a moment too soon. Contrary to its title, Slow Time has grooving Latin rhythm and keyboard electronics to aid Claire in doing respectful justice to Ian Shaw’s articulate lyrics about Ms Horn. While wondering why, according to the credits, it took six people to compose it, I must say The Sun Died is a wonderfully evocative closer by Claire in which Gerard Presencer assuredly shines.

As Richard Rodney Bennett says in his absorbing notes: “I am sure that no other singer would have been so ideal for a Shirley Horn tribute”.

The latest from Claire Martin is another classy release. “He Never Mentioned Love” celebrates the career of Shirley Horn, a significant vocalist, if only because she managed to dazzle Miles Davis, an achievement in itself. Martin sings with her now familiar emotional power, maintaining her concentration with the song in hand, and always remaining totally believable.

Eleven Claire Martin albums have preceded “He Never Mentioned Love”, and if none are part of your jazz library, then there’s a significant gap in your knowledge and appreciation of contemporary vocalists. This time around, the finely tuned Brit pays tribute to the songs and spirit of Shirley Horn. Or, as Martin more articulately puts it, she spends “a really heartfelt hour remembering someone who I really love.” Martin, whose voice is one of the most satisfying instruments in jazz, doesn’t sound like Horn, nor does she attempt to. But they do share a dusky, contemplative self-assurance, making it eminently clear that each track is equally indebted to heart and mind. A salute to Horn demands not only sublimely intelligent singing, but also inspired piano work. Since Martin doesn’t play, she wisely calls on the superb Gareth Williams. Additional instrumental highlights come from guest guitarist Jim Mullen, working his subtle brand of magic on Everything Must Change, and blazing sax accompaniment by Nigel Hitchcock on an All Night Long that sounds like an Edward Hopper painting brought to urgently shadowy life. And, is there a finer expression of love for a lost pal than A Song for You, especially as Martin handles it, treating Leon Russell’s delicate lyric like a priceless treasure that demands care both gentle and firm?

This is a gorgeous piece of work. Claire Martin’s not short of accolades (the most recent being a BBC Jazz Award nomination), but ultimately listeners seek out the proof of the pudding. Well, here’s an unmissable hour’s worth of exactly that, in which Martin celebrates one of her most significant influences, Shirley Horn. There’s no shortage of recordings on which singers cover songs made famous by other singers, describe the results as a ‘tribute’, then reap the benefits of listeners’ displaced enthusiasm. This, however, is something quite different. Horne was mainly known for investing slow, insinuating ballads with an extraordinary degree of emotional intensity, which in itself is one of the trickiest areas of jazz singing. Martin not only succeeds in this but makes these songs her own. The recording is immaculate, but my advance copy is a CD-only version, so the SACD should be even better.

Slow Time mit Claire

Claire Martin ist eine dergrossen Jazzsängerinnen der Zeit. Nur weiss das ausserhalb Englands fast keiner.

Eurotunnel hin, Billigflüge her: Great Britain ist ein fernes Land. Zwar ist ein Zeitungstitel von einst (ich weiss nicht mehr in welchem Blatt) heute schwer mehr vorstellbar, aber als Metapher für englische Vorbehalte gegenüber Europa taugt er nach wie vor: “Thick fog over Channel. Continent Isolated”. In weiten Bereichen des Jazz hat sich der Nebel gelichtet, gehören britische Musiker längst zum Kern der europäischen Szene, namentlichin deren avancierteren Zonen. In anderen lastet er schwer und undurchdringlich. Bevor George Gruntz ihn ins Ensemble seiner Zauberflöten -Travestie The Magic of a Flute holte, wusste, ein paar hochspezialisierte Trüffelsäue ausgenommen, kein Schwein, dass Ian Shaw einer der grossen Jazzsänger der Welt ist.

Mit Shaws Kollegin Claire Martin, von der es auf dem Label Linn Records weit über ein Dutzend CDs gibt, verhält es sich nicht anders. Sie gewinnt einen British Jazz Award, eine BBC-Auszeichnung als “Best Vocalist of the Year” nach der andern (wenn ihr nicht gerade besagter Shaw vor dem Licht steht), wird von Altmeistern wie Tony Bennett bewundert, aber in New York eher wahrgenommen als in Zürich. Zeit, dass sich das ändert.

Die Flut von Neuerscheinungen aus der Spezialnische Vocal Jazz ist zurzeit beträchtlich und ein zusätzliches Hindernis. Umso nachdrücklicher muss hier, bei allem Widerwillen gegen Ausrufungszeichen, für das jüngste Opus der ‘First Lady’, der “Madonna of British Jazz” (eine besonders schwachsinnige Formel der Fan-Presse) eine Fanfare schmettern ­ ganz im Widerspruch zu dessen Inhalt. Denn es enthält eine Musik der leisen Töne, der langsamen Tempi, der unverschämtesten und schamvollsten Intimität. Musik in Grossaufnahme, sozusagen. “Meine Freunde”, scherzt Martin, “sagen von mir, halb sänge ich wie eine Nutte, halb wie eine Nonne.” Die fleischliche multipliziert sich mit der ätherischen ‘Innigkeit’. Wie sagt Robert Walser sinngemäss: Dem Verstand ist’s hurenhaft, dem Gefühl gigantisch.

Damit wissen Kenner solcher Delikatessen (die nur deshalb keine Stafverfolgung riskieren, weil diese Art von Vokal-Erotik nicht quantifizierbar ist) schon, wem He Never Mentioned Love (so heisst die Scheibe) gewidmet ist: der unvergleichlichen Weltrekordhalterin in musikalischer Langsamkeit, der 2005 gestorbenen Shirley Horn (the most beautiful musical motion next to immobility). Das bringt Frau Martin sogar auf einen Kalauer, ihre Lesart von ‘langsam, aber sicher’; Slowly but Shirley nennt sie eine Verbeugung vor der grossen Horn, die zu Lebzeiten Miles Davis so beeindruckt hatte, dass er für ihre CD You Won’t Forget Me wenige Wochen vor seinem Tod noch ein jenseitiges Trompetensolo beisteuerte.

Claire Martin ist nicht einfach die auferstandene Shirley Horn. Die zu imitieren wäre zwar allein schon ein grosses Kunststück. Die Martin praktiziert ihre eigene Kunst der Verführung, wenn auch haarscharf den Gravitationslinien ihres grossen Vorbilds entlang. Das weckt gelegentlichen Schauder der Faszination; aber sie ist intelligent genug, im richtigen Augenblick eine Spur Ironie einzustreuen. Und sie hat die richtigen Partner in ihrer britischen Truppe: den Pianisten Gareth Williams (der Horns Pianostil so verinnerlicht hat wie Martin deren Gesang), Laurence Cottle am Bass, Clark Tracey am Schlagzeug, dazu eine Handvoll Special Guests, deren eindrücklichster der Flügelhornist Gerard Presencer. Ganz locker daherimprovisiert, erfindet er vollendete lyrische Girlanden und Gegenlinien zu Martins Gesang.

Seit ihrem 17. Lebensjahr, seit 1987, arbeitet Claire Martin professionell, ihren Vorlieben und dem intimen Charakter ihrer Musik gemäss hauptsächlich in Clubs, Hotel-Lounges, Bars. Berührungsängste kannte sie nie, auch nicht zu Rock und Pop, aber ihre Leidenschaft galt immer Standards und Balladen mit ein paar daruntergemischten Gewürznoten von Joni Mitchell, Tom Waits, Dave Frishberg, Elvis Costello. Hier ist’s ein Original ihres Seelenbruders Ian Shaw (mit dem sie gelegentlich auch im Duo auftritt). Sein Titel hätte der der ganzen CD sein können und trifft den Kern jeder Shirley-Horn-Hommage: Slow Time.

Long recognised as one of Britain’s finest jazz voices, the remarkable Claire Martin has released yet another stunning release on the world-renowned label Linn Records. This new release is a hybrid Super Audio CD which features a dual format of HDCD as well as Super Audio CD with stereo and multichannel sound.

The local Linn Records distributor predicts that “He Never Mentioned Love” may well be Claire Martin’s best-selling CD release ever in Australia.

With this album Claire offers her traditional jazz vocal style with a stylish tribute to the late Shirley Horn, an established and legendary American jazz singer. Here she explores the songs of Shirley Horn applying her individuality rather than simple imitation, with the result being a pure, clean relaxed sound from the UK’s most awarded jazz singer, winning the Best Vocalist title a records five times at the BBC Jazz Awards, Best New Jazz Artist in 1994 and Best Jazz Singer in 1995, and most recently receiving a nomination for Broadcaster of the Year 2007.

As her 12^th album release on Linn Records “He Never Mentioned Love” will, without doubt, be another runaway sales success for the very talented Claire Martin. If you are yet to experience Claire’s voice then this latest album provides you with the perfect opportunity. Chances are that you’ll soon be checking out her back catalogue too – and if you do, take a listen to her album “When Lights Are Low” from 2005.

This is more than just a tribute album to the late pianist-singer Shirley Horn whose ultra slow vocals often seemed to dissipate like cigarette smoke in the air. Horn, who died in 2005, was one of Claire Martin’s greatest influences but as befitting someone whose musical intelligence, jazz spirit and individuality make her the complete singer, England’s finest jazz diva stamps her own personality on each track, her smoky voice with the richness of its bottom range as palatable to the ear as ever. Dig her own Slowly but Shirley, the ache of The Sun Died (superb flugelhorn by Gerard Presencer) and the charging All Night Long. It’s all class.

Though little known in the United States until this year, when she made her debut at the famed Oak Room in New York, Martin is an established jazz star in England. Her tribute album to her mentor Shirley Horn explains why. Martin uses understatement and nuance to slip into a song’s skin. Like Horn, she rejects embellishment and acrobatics in favor of an unforced, heartfelt, conversational approach.

The title track ballad showcases Martin’s low voice, which twists around the wistful lyrics like smoke. “The Music That Makes Me Dance” is another slow-cooked treat; check out the singer’s seemingly effortless phrasing and perfect intonation. While the CD is dominated by pensive tempos, there are fine faster numbers such as “Forget Me,” which finds pianist Gareth Williams, drummer Clark Tracey and bassist Laurence Cottle locked in and swinging. Along with songs from Horn’s repertoire, the album includes two pieces written in the late singer’s honor: “Slowly But Shirley” and “Slow Time.” It’s hard to imagine Horn not being impressed with Martin’s tribute.

The late Shirley Horn never hurried, so Claire Martin’s swinging agility isn’t much required in this largely meditative set – but her sumptuous low tones and subtle timing are the highly eloquent alternatives. Gareth Williams, Jim Mullen and Guy Barker make restrained but telling contributions (a loose dialogue with Barker at the end of All Night Long could have been prolonged), with Mullen and Martin sublime on the soulful LA Breakdown. It might be a bit plush and torchy for Martin’s jazz fans, but it’s as beautifully done as you might expect from such a class act.

The late Shirley Horn was one of Miles Davis’s favourite singers. It’s said that he once refused to play the Village Vanguard unless she was also involved. Claire Martin, arguably Britain’s finest jazz singer, has therefore chosen a near impossible act to follow. Horn was all about keeping things intimate, the whisper-in-the-ear approach, never playing to the grandstand. And Martin, with the aid of her regular pianist Gareth Williams and some hand-picked guests that include guitarist Jim Mullen and trumpet-star Gerard Presencer, has adhered to that candle-lit cafe approach on a selection of material spanning such standards as Trav’lling Light, You’re Nearer and Leon Russell’s A Song For You, along with a brace of originals, including bassist Laurence Cottle’s Slowly But Shirley, which, despite its title, provides the singer with one of the album’s rare opportunities to move uptempo.

Claire Martin’s latest album “He Never Mentioned Love” is a tribute to the late, great Shirley Horn, who Claire counted as a friend and mentor. Together with some top instrumentalists she’s created a top notch album of songs associated with Shirley plus one written about her by Claire and producer Laurence Cottle. Another great album from a British jazz icon, it’s out on the Linn Records label.

Claire Martin dedicates this set of 13 songs to the memory of Shirley Horn “who takes my breath away”. There are few singers who could stand comparison with the late mistress of vocal poise, but Martin has a perfect jazz voice – warm, textured and subtle – which allows her to venture calmly into the daunting, ultra-slow territory which was Horn’s speciality. She does it quite beautifully, breathing new life into songs like You’re Nearer, with the lightest of touches. Two new songs, her own Slowly but Shirley and Ian Shaw’s Slow Time, match the mood seamlessly. Perfect accompaniment, especially from guitarist Jim Mullen and pianist Gareth Williams.

Ubiquity is a problem in the relatively small jazz scene here in the United Kingdom. Having a world class jazz singer at a jazz club near you a couple of times a year can mean getting taken a bit for granted. But perhaps not after “He Never Mentioned Love”. While Claire Martin has covered a lot of ground on previous albums, she never quite demonstrated a convincing emotional range. This is not unusual among jazz singers, it was a problem for Ella Fitzgerald, a certified jazz great, for example, and was not resolved until she was into her forties and had recorded the “Gershwin” album on Decca or “Let No Man Write My Epitaph” on Verve. Here, Claire Martin ticks that final box and moves closer to becoming the complete jazz singer she’s always threatened to be. Listen to her storytelling skill on L.A. Breakdown, the gentle ache of You’re Nearer or how she weightlessly manoeuvres through Everything Must Change.

Society decrees that female jazz singers must suffer for their art. Unfortunately, not enough. But Claire Martin – who’s been a superior vocalist for a long time – has developed real grain and character in her voice, showcased perfectly on this dedication to the late singer / pianist Shirley Horn. The title track and The Music That Makes Me Dance are the most intensely Shirley-ish songs, but three arrangements by the great guitarist Jim Mullen, plus his incredible playing on Everything Must Change, demand attention, while guest star Gerard Presencer adds suitably forlorn trumpet and flugel to several pieces.

Very much a singer’s singer, Shirley Horn was one of the best-kept secrets in jazz. Claire Martin has long been her leading admirer on this side of the water, and now, almost two years after the older woman’s death, she has delivered her own tribute. The shimmering title track illustrates how thoroughly she has assimilated that superhumanly relaxed phrasing. It’s a song that is almost too introspective for its own good, but Martin’s smoky voice has never sounded more authoritative. A fine cast of backing musicians, including the trumpeter Gerard Presencer, adds pungent solos. Miss Horn would have approved.

The UK singer’s love for Shirley Horn has inspired perhaps Martin’s best album. Her tribute to the sultry, slow-motion genius of the late pianist-singer features an intimate, upfront voice and daring vulnerability that rewards patient attention. Highlights: tightrope torpor on the title track; a moody version of the Helen Reddy-via Shirley piece LA Breakdown.

I generally wait with baited breath for each release from Claire Martin; the versatile English jazz singer has rarely disappointed me, and this loving tribute to the recently departed Shirley Horn is no exception. Included are twelve songs that were a part of Shirley Horn’s recorded canon, and one tune, Slowly But Shirley, that was specially composed for this project. As with all of Claire Martin’s albums, the level of musicianship is beyond reproach, and the glory of the music shows through on this pure-DSD multichannel SACD from Linn Records.

While it’s hard to pick and choose from so many good tracks, there are a few really noteworthy numbers that are so musically satisfying, they easily cover the cost of admission. Trav’llin’ Light, a trio number, features the superb double bass work of Steve Watts with equally nimble guitar accompaniment from Jim Mullen. The smoky-sweet alto of Claire Martin is the icing on an already delicious track. Leon Russell’s classic A Song For You was a favorite of Shirley Horn, and Claire gives it her own signature treatment, including another really swinging solo from Jim Mullen. Gareth Williams’ smooth electric piano work gives the tune a really funky seventies vibe. You’re Nearer features both Steve Watts on double bass and Laurence Cottle on bass. Early on, Laurence Cottle plays his instrument exclusively in higher registers and as the lead instrument, giving the tune a really cool and truly unique quality. L.A. Breakdown is a superb blues number that reaches a sustained smooth groove that could just go on forever.

If you’re a Claire Martin fan, this disc is no-brainer. Just a casual lover of really good music? Ditto. Very highly recommended!

An exceptionally fine album from one of the best singers around. Martin is paying tribute to one of her heroes, the late Shirley Horn, and the results are gorgeous. Never in better voice, her readings of signature songs, including If You Go and Everything Must Change are spot-on. Her timing and phrasing are just right and the emotional weight she brings to the songs makes them come alive. There are potent guest spots from guitarist Jim Mullen and Gerard Presencer on flugelhorn, along with fine piano from Gareth Williams.

CLAIRE Martin has remained at the top of the ever-growing heap of UK jazz singers over the past decade and more. This latest disc, her 12th for the Glasgow-based Linn Records, is her tribute to the work of the great American jazz singer Shirley Horn, who died in 2005. As with the best tributes, she puts her own imprint on material associated with Horn and includes a song she wrote in her memory, Slowly But Shirley (slow tempos, of course, being one of Horn’s hallmarks).

Martin is a mature artist with a real understanding of the music, and is supported by an excellent trio led by pianist Gareth Williams, with guests that include Scottish guitar maestro Jim Mullen and Skye-based saxophonist Nigel Hitchcock.

Shirley Horn, who was renowned for her velvet voice, hip piano work and ultra-laidback tempos, is Claire Martin’s favourite singer. Backed by the cream of UK talent, including pianist Gareth Williams, bass-guitarist Laurence Cottle, altoist Nigel Hitchcock and flugelhornist Gerard Presencer, she restrains her usual vocal exuberance for a relaxed set of dedicated Hornucopia, including All Night Long, Slow Time and a new tribute number, Slowly But Shirley, which I think would have made a better album title.

Ev’rything Must Change includes a sublime guitar solo from another guest, Jim Mullen, who has never sounded better. He’s also featured on LA Breakdown a track which demonstrates the poised phrasing and smoky tone that make Ms Martin our most sophisticated jazz singer.

Our fave female jazz singer, Martin is absolutely peerless. A five times BBC Jazz Award winner she brings her outstanding technique to bear on softly spoken ballads, powerfully swinging standards, little known nuggets and funky soul covers all delivered with a true improvisers ear. These concerts find her launching her 12th album ‘He Never Mentioned Love’ a heartfelt tribute to the great Shirley Horn whose laid back, slow-mo delivery made her Miles’ favourite singer. Guitarist Jim Mullen guests.

A loving tribute to the late Shirley Horn, this is a highly-polished set of very gentle, nuanced recordings that not just anyone could pull off. Ms. Martin is often called “The UK’s finest jazz singer.”  This disc makes a strong case. Ms. Horn’s biography tells its own story, and Sir Richard Rodney Bennett’s notes at the Linn Records website tell that story better than any summary I could provide, so let’s talk about this recording.

When first I heard Ms. Martin, I bought up her whole catalog at import prices. This disc is a fine addition to the collection. Quiet, and intense – Ms. Martin’s voice doesn’t shout for attention, it simply draws one in. I end up captivated by choice, and this can never be background music for me.

Highlights include Ms. Horn’s classic “He Never Mentioned Love,” a surprise – the Leon Russell semi classic “A Song For You,” and Ms. Martin and the band swing nicely on “All Night Long.”

The backing band frames Ms. Martin’s voice very well – each takes his solo turn well, but never ever detracts from Ms. Martin. Of particular note are Gareth Williams on Piano, Steve Watts on Bass and Gerard Presencer on Flugelhorn.

Ms. Martin’s recordings are released through Linn Records in Scotland, a label started by a company that makes high-end audio gear in the UK.  Go to their website and they’ll tell you that they started the label because they couldn’t find recordings that were good enough to adequately test their equipment.

Audio engineers aren’t the only ones impressed by Ms. Martin’s voice.  And you’ll have the chance to be impressed, too – on this side of the Atlantic.  Ms. Martin plays the prestigious Oak Room at the Algonquin Hotel in New York – June 26 to July 6.

Highly recommended.

‘When [Shirley Horn] died, I didn’t want it to be the end of that. I wanted to do my own little tribute, because she has given me so much.’ Thus Claire Martin, explaining the genesis of this album, which comprises eleven songs connected with the late great singer/pianist, plus an original specially written in tribute to her by Martin herself and her producer Laurence Cottle, and a song by Ian Shaw inspired by a Horn/Miles Davis recording session. Martin’s vocal art has always been notable for its unaffected, almost conversational warmth and intimacy, the result of a sympathetic intelligence that enables her to identify the emotional core of a song and infuse her version with a precisely appropriate degree of sentiment, and since this rare and valuable skill lies at the heart of Horn’s appeal, too, this project was never going to suffer from the tribute’s album’s besetting sin: contrivance. Martin’s versions of such songs as ‘The Music that Makes Me Dance’, ‘If You Go’, ‘Forget Me’ and ‘The Sun Died’ – archetypal, often achingly slow Horn staples – are just as affecting as their templates, whether they’re subtly combining a wry acceptance of love’s vicissitudes with a bruised but defiant optimism, or simply and touchingly confessing undying adoration for a perhaps unreliable lover. Martin’s band – pianist Gareth Williams, growling but nimble electric bassist Cottle, drummer Clark Tracey, supplemented or replaced from time to time by various combinations of flugelhorn player Gerard Presencer, guitarist Jim Mullen, saxophonist Nigel Hitchcock, acoustic bassist Steve Watts and percussionist Massimo Marraccini – perform flawlessly throughout, self-effacingly enough in their accompanying role to ensure that Martin’s mesmerising performances capture and hold the attention, but sparkily assertive and muscular where required for solo duties. In short: a gem of an album, pulling off the difficult feat of simultaneously showcasing Martin’s unrivalled vocal gifts (crystal-clear diction, sureness of emotional pitch chief among them) and celebrating the extraordinarily moving quality of Horn’s music. Strongly recommended.

In this tribute to Shirley Horn, Claire Martin shows yet again why she is the classiest and most convincing UK female singer around, with top-flight support including Gerard Presencer on trumpet, Clark Tracey on drums and Jim Mullen on guitar. You can catch her, too, at Pizza Express, Soho, June 13-17.

Although still in her thirties, Claire Martin seems to have been getting rave reviews for ever. But ubiquity comes at a price, meaning that she has been taken for granted. “He Never Mentioned Love”, though, should change all that. Having covered a lot of ground on her previous albums without demonstrating a convincing emotional range, here she ticks that final box and becomes the complete jazz singer she’s always threatened to be. Listen to her storytelling on LA Breakdown, the gentle ache of You’re Nearer, or how she manoeuvres through Everything Must Change.

American singer and pianist Shirley Horn was one of Claire Martin’s greatest influences. In “He Never Mentioned Love”, Claire’s first album since Shirley died at the end of 2005, she pays homage with a set of songs from Shirley’s repertoire.
To demonstrate what’s so great about The Heartache Queen, Claire sings her praises through her own piece – Slowly But Shirley. The ’silent spaces’ she admired in Shirley’s performances have been assimilated into Claire’s singing style, particularly in her version of The Sun Died, helped along by Gerard Presencer’s aching trumpet solo. In the quietest moments here and in the title track, every smile and every frown is audible in Claire’s luscious voice.
Though this selection of songs is mainly slow – in tribute to Horn, who was renowned for performing at drop-dead tempos – Claire’s wonderful sense of dynamics and story-telling still shine through. She’s threatening and needy in If You Go, passionate in Forget Me and pragmatic in Trav’llin’ Light.
Once again, Claire draws together an enviable collection of top UK jazz musicians, which means exciting solos and fresh arrangements. A mixture of trio, bass-voice duo and voice-guitar duo keeps things intriguing, and this is certainly no tribute band. The producer is bandleader Laurence Cottle, who plays a stunning solo on You’re Nearer, his electric bass speaking through the gruffest low notes and singing through the high ones. Gerard Presencer’s broken altissimo notes have a Kenny Wheeler sound to them, and Nigel Hitchcock’s sax storms through Slowly But Shirley. The Gareth Williams-Cottle-Clark Tracey trio get things swinging whenever they can, especially in ‘’All Night Long” where everyone lets rip against a jagged time signature. Claire’s long-time cohort on the guitar, Jim Mullen, also features. He gets his teeth into the feisty ‘’LA Breakdown”, as Claire’s fractured phrases and belting finale turn this hard-driving bluesy waltz into the ultimate drama.
“He Never Mentioned Love” may be a chance for Claire Martin to remember Shirley Horn, but the sheer individuality that she brings to these songs shows that this is more than a tribute album. Shirley’s passed the flame to Claire, who’s using it to light fireworks. Go girl!

If anyone can get away with a Shirley Horn tribute, it’s Claire Martin, whose subtle musical intelligence and jazz sensibilities have been deepening for a long time. True, Martin’s skills can sometimes shield her emotions – but there’s nowhere to hide in Shirley Horn’s repertoire, since the late Washington singer and musicians’ musician (Miles was a big fan, so is Diana Krall) liked sleepwalking tempos, and the minimum of artifice and ornament. On this set of smoky mood-pieces exploring her rich lower range, Martin is supported by a fine-tuned band including pianist Gareth Williams, with guest roles for guitarist Jim Mullen and trumpeter Gerard Presencer. There’s a Betty Carter-like touch to the casual note-bends on Everything Must Change, and The Music That Makes Me Dance highlights the delicate weighting of phrases from both Martin and Williams. An improvised jam with Gerard Presencer at the end of All Night Long is a loose and animated episode that could have been prolonged. LA Breakdown accelerates from slow musing to a Ray Charles-like soulfulness, with Mullen in his element. It’s low-lights, maybe somewhat dinner-jazzy music, but it’s as classy as anything Claire Martin has recorded.

Flying the flag for British female jazz singers is the incomparable Claire Martin, considered by many, this writer included, as the UK’s premier jazz singer. “He Never Mentioned Love” is a tribute to the late Shirley Horn and its astute choice of material is the perfect showcase for Martin’s finely-nuanced delivery.

Claire Martin has never made any secret of her admiration for Shirley Horn, the late singer-pianist’s breathy delivery and poise providing inspiration that has guided Martin into the UK’s jazz singing elite. Now, almost two years from Horn’s final coda, Martin revisits some of her greatest songs and, without imitating her heroine, captures her essence beautifully. The ballads are terrifically intimate. The effectively bossa-fied Everything Must Change and Ian Shaw’s scene-setting Slow Time highlight Martin’s sensuality, and LA Breakdown, which comes with the added attraction of guitarist Jim Mullen’s blues thumbprint, is showstopping.

In “He Never Mentioned Love,” her latest release on Linn, Claire Martin pays homage to her greatest influence, the late and legendary American songstress Shirley Horn. If it’s true as they say that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” this lady is nothing if not dead-on sincere. There is a noticeable borrowing here, but with differences in tempo, style and emphasis that allow Ms. Martin to make these songs all her own.

In an earlier review I praised Claire’s ability to “hold and caress the underlying moods in [a song], the sensual joy and pain that slowly percolate up through the melodies or flow as smooth as cream.” She does it beautifully here, in a voice so deeply rich and seamless that she sounds eerily like her professed role model. There’s no cheap melodrama in these songs of heartbreak and missed chances at love. Claire Martin has an intuitive sense of how to handle the emotion in a song lyric, or even a single word, right to the end of the bar, a “jazz sense” that distinguishes the true artist.

“He left me broken / every dream I had was left unspoken / Just as he had come, / he gave no warning and was gone again! / He never mentioned love / He never even mentioned love…” Consider yourselves alerted, jazz deejays. There are thirteen songs on this SACD. Set the needle down (or whatever you say nowadays) on any track, and you’ll have an instant hit. The songs are all the more welcome for not being overly familiar. Besides the title song, Claire gives us memorable accounts of “Forget me,” “Trav’llin’ light,” “The music that makes me dance,” “All night long,” and “Everything must change.” “There are not many things in life that we can be sure of / except… / Rain comes from the clouds, / sunlight from the sky / and hummin’birds do fly!”

And also “A song for you,” “Slowly but Shirley,” and “Slow time.” Plus “If you go, / if you love me no more / If I know / that you want me no more / Then the sun would lose its light / and day turn into night / Night without stars / Deep night without stars!” And “L.A. Breakdown” (”Don’t be hard and unforgiving / It’s tough enough for me just living / Getting tired of being a loser on the run”), “You’re nearer” (than my head is to the pillow, / nearer / than the wind is to the willow), and “The sun died.” Winners all.

Credit some yeoman support on this disc from Gareth Williams, piano; Clark Tracey, drums; and Laurence Cottle, bass.

I should preface this review with a list of my disqualifications for the job. For starters, I’m not really a big jazz fan. Actually, I’m one of those ignoramuses who thinks it’s just tinnitus tarted up as musical genius. Yes, I know, it’s a terminal cultural cliché that’s been said before and will, without question, be said again, but it’s genuinely what I’ve always thought and no matter how many nights I’ve alcopopped the night away at Ronnie Scott’s my opinion has remained stubbornly unshifting. Ok, I can get onboard with Prince’s brand of jazz-jacked freewheeling funk, but that doesn’t really count because it’s not the pure stuff.

Secondly, despite being long-established and hailed as “The First Lady of British Jazz” as well as hauling in an impressive booty of prestigious industry awards, Claire Martin’s career, pre-research, was something of a mystery to me, which is a polite way of saying I’d never heard of her.

Ditto Shirley Horn, who may be a legendary jazz singer beloved by the jazzerati and known to almost everyone else on earth, but to me she’s simply somebody with a comedy surname. I know, I know, I’ve known for some time I’m a childish idiot. Ordinarily this wouldn’t matter but this latest Martin release is a tribute to the late singer and her work. So there you have it: philistine be my name.

Ever one to seek out the positive spin, maybe being so unclued-up could actually be something of a plus because I come to the album with the enthusiasm of the newbie and baggage-free. Well, not completely: I still have my jazz-as-musical-schizophrenia prejudice in place. It’s all the more remarkable, then, that He Never Mentioned Love utterly hooked me in. What is impressive is the range of Martin’s voice which is, by turns, soaring, sensuous, plaintive and powerful. The breadth of her voice can be heard in spades on the title track; it ebbs and flows, rising and falling like an ocean wave, occasionally crashing against the rocks when the song’s emotional economy demands it, all aided and abetted by the most beautiful, evocative musical arrangement.

In fact, there isn’t a misfire on the entire album as Martin putties the tracks into masterclasses of vocal versatility. From the heartfelt longing of ‘You’re Nearer’ to the finely-struck storytelling on ‘LA Breakdown’ or the surefooted technical prowess of ‘Everything Must Change,’ her ability to morph her vocal to a track’s emotional handbrake turns bristles throughout and, unlike even some the world’s best singers, she never overdoes it, the feeling comes from a real place and doesn’t veer towards the clichéd comfort zone of the overblown.

Martin’s metier is subtle nuance, not obvious brassy theatricality. In some ways, she’s reminiscent of one the all-time great voices of the music canon, Aretha Franklin, in the way she can gear-switch from emotion-laced whisper to full-throttled, throaty, reach-the-back-seats controlled explosions.

Significantly, the album feels fresh, which is a hard ask for a tribute album. Whereas most homage projects feel like a sort of artistic necrophilia, dogged by the looming ghost of talents past, this comes over as an individual take on a fellow star’s legacy.

Ok, as a non-jazzophile I’m hardly in a position to compare and contrast the two artists, but maybe that’s an advantage because I’m not spooked by the spectre in the room; I come to the album as blank canvas and, trust me, they don’t come blanker then me.

Most importantly, if it can reel in a thicko like me who thinks jazz is nothing more than lift muzak then it really is mission accomplished by a clearly accomplished artist.