Local musician Alison Crockett; courtesy of Crockett
Local musician Alison Crockett doesn't really fit into any genre category. Depending on who you ask, she's a jazz singer, a soul singer, or an R&B singer; in each case the answerer will note her profound gospel and blues roots. Her vocal delivery encapsulates all of that.
On the other hand, her recordings tend to feature plugged-in electric instruments in accompaniment with song choices and high production values often associated with pop stylings, as is the case with her 2018 bossa nova album, Obrigada. Hence, if you regard her as, say, a neo-soulstress, you're forgiven.
Crockett is not a stranger to the D.C. jazz scene, however, and her new album, Echoes of an Era Redux: My Father's Record Collection Vol. 1, is her most obvious gesture yet in that direction. Released May 1, the live hit was recorded at Blues Alley-the first sound you hear is club owner Harry Schnipper announcing, "Welcome to Blues Alley jazz! Let's give it up for Miss Alison Crockett!"
Likewise, the music that follows is unambiguous in its sound. Trumpeter Thad Wilson gets started with a classic swing lick, tenor saxophonist Paul Carr following as the rhythm section (pianist Todd Simon, bassist Eliot Seppa, drummer Dana Hawkins) percolates. The tune is "Them There Eyes," a 1930 song and one of six standards that make up the bulk of Echoes of an Era Redux.
Crockett's robust alto and phrasing are still immediately identifiable-but the energy is different. We hear it primarily in the rhythm. The determined, in-the-pocket bounce Crockett puts into "All of Me" and "Take the A Train" is a world away from the hip-hop groove-croon she lays down on "Crossroads" (from 2003's On Becoming a Woman), or even the future funk she belts on another standard, "Nature Boy" (from 2012's Mommy, What's a Depression?).
That emphatic rhythm translates to a new kind of brazen confidence in Crockett's delivery: She was never a wallflower, mind you, but what was previously below the surface is now right there on top. Even in more delicate renderings, such as "Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most," you can hear an indomitable assertion of who's in charge.
But even on this latest album, Crockett's artistry is more complicated than it might appear. The "redux" in the title refers directly to another Echoes of an Era. That one was a 1982 recording by Chaka Khan of Rufus and "I Feel for You" fame. Between those two benchmarks, Khan also visited the Great American Songbook, accompanied by giants Joe Henderson, Freddie Hubbard, and Chick Corea, the latter supplying an original song, "High Wire - The Aerialist," to the album. The jazz pedigree on the 1982 album was high enough that Khan wasn't credited as leader, but one of the collective. Crockett's record, however, is entirely hers.
Khan is an instructive comparison to the local artist-even without this tribute. She and Crockett share similar genre-defying proclivities, even if they don't sound much alike. Five of the standards on Crockett's Echoes were on Khan's. (The sixth, "I Get a Kick Out of You," came from a follow-up album that the instrumentalists made without Khan, Echoes of an Era 2.)
On Crockett's album, Wilson's trumpet lick that starts off the track "Them There Eyes" is taken directly from the original Echoes arrangement.
Clearly, Crockett knows Khan's album inside out. There are vocal references to the 1982 interpretations scattered throughout the 2023 ones. She's not shy about it. "I didn't learn this from Ella Fitzgerald," she cautions in the lead-up to "Spring." "I did not learn this from Sarah Vaughan. I learned this song from Funkmasta Flex Chaka Khan."
But Crockett is not Khan and she does not try to be. Khan's "Take the A Train" is a suggestion; Crockett's is an order. That, perhaps, is the best way to describe the vocalist's personality on this record: Determination not to get buried in the tribute, to remain her own person even as she assays familiar tunes and arrangements. This is where the subtitle of the Crockett album becomes important: As much as she's nodding to Khan, she's exploring her own musical upbringing, the music her parents (in particular, her jazz pianist father) loved. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is literally how I grew up," she announces after "A Train."
An artist who can cover someone else's album (that was itself a covers album), use the same arrangements, sometimes even the same vocal tics, and still come up with something new? That is a true artist.
Well, look at that. There's a perfectly apt category for Crockett, after all.
Alison Crockett's Echoes of an Era Redux: My Fathers Record Collection Vol. 1 is available for purchase and streaming on alisoncrockett.bandcamp.com. $10.
