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The Sound Advice column of CD reviews returns from a hiatus with high-energy recordings featuring the folks who recently raised the roof at the Palace Theatre on Broadway following a tour crisscrossing the globe: welcome back to our readers and to Liza Minnelli with the songs from that recent show, six of them featuring her four male singer-dancers. Two of them have recordings of their own. There's energy to burn all around.
"Look who's here—the same dame you've always known" goes a line in the tailor-made new song about Liza Minnelli's latest grand return. And for the most part, that sums up her new double-disc release: it's very Liza, with her trademark zing and joyful theatricality. The song quoted is called "I Would Never Leave You" and captures the entertainer's longtime love affair—with her audiences. Smoothly and adeptly acknowledging her love for her work and its importance, it is unabashedly affectionate and self-knowing (written by the talented, "they-know-whereof-they-speak" Billy Stritch, Johnny Rodgers—more on them below—and Brian Lane Green). This is a masterful Minnelli, knowing herself, her career and her image, all with their, to quote the title of one of her first shows, best foot forward. The singing has always been more about bold choices, biting into songs ferociously with dramatic flourishes and a whirlwind of energy more so than having musical purity or "pretty sounds." The vibrato can be wide, with more blare than care, but that ain't new. Reinvigorated here (the word "ragged" some cynics might hope to hear is not remotely appropriate). Yes indeed, this performer has had her own well-documented vocal challenges and uneven performances as a result of various woes and struggles. How does she sound here? Healthy and focused, youthful without that very giddy, giggly, girlishness or frantic, frazzled feel that she could have been accused of in past recordings and shows. She's involved and savvy, warm and in fine fettle. If you've liked Liza's work in the past, you'll be a satisfied customer again: she delivers punch and things feel kinetic and dynamic. Featuring the songs in her act that has been touring the world from Uruguay to Broadway, this is a studio recording, not recorded-live-in-concert with adulatory applause and screams. That's fine; she's released numerous live albums and a studio session allows for choices focused on vocal and musical elements that need not make compensations for movement, a performer pacing herself, and the vagaries of audience and sound systems. The album, produced by legendary record producer Phil Ramone, sounds bright and crisp, almost feeling "live" pretty often. (A few brief lines of patter are retained from the live shows.) About half the songs have been recorded before, some more than a couple of times. "Maybe This Time" has followed Liza from her first solo album in 1964 and maybe this time we didn't need another rendition, but neither this nor the other warhorses sound beaten down or walked through. Not that there are any grand reinventions and rethinkings of them in approach or arrangement (original arrangers are credited and their work is respected), but they still sparkle and are fused with adrenalin galore. There are a few nice revisits with some more variations, like "My Own Best Friend," a souvenir of the time Liza stepped in for Gwen Verdon on short notice for a few weeks in the original run of Chicago (the first version had been released originally on one side of a 45 rpm single record). They all come across as old friends, as does the singer. But the real treasure here for those who have most of the recordings of the staples on the shelf or burned in their memories is the stuff not previously visited by Liza. On the first disc, it's historic and pretty darn thrilling to hear Liza sail through the medley of songs associated with vaudeville stars that was a piece de resistance when performed by her mother, Judy Garland, when she played New York's Palace Theatre. Liza sticks close to the well-established maternal footprints saluting Sophie Tucker and others, so this is showbiz history times two. Special lyrics have been written by John Kander, David Zippel and Billy Stritch, in his frequent role as musical supervisor/pianist—and he did some of the arrangements. As usual, he's right on the money and he and new drummer/conductor Mike Berkowitz run a tight ship. Seventeen musicians are credited in all, with five sax players including veteran Gerry Niewood who tragically died in the Buffalo plane crash two weeks ago. A big chunk of the album and recent stage act, and its raison d'être and main event for many, is the section saluting entertainer and brilliant vocal arranger Kay Thompson, who contributed work to MGM musicals in the golden age, appearing herself in Funny Face with Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn. Not at all incidentally, she was Liza's godmother and anchor and friend, so this centerpiece is a tribute. And it is a terrific one: exciting, fast-paced, snazzy and with oomph galore. These songs all appear on the second disc, recreating Kay Thompson's night club act with the harmonizing, dancing Williams Brothers. The guys here are splendid and spunky, bursting with joy and jive with their close and interesting harmonies. They are Jim Caruso, Tiger Martina, Cortés Alexander and Johnny Rodgers (who in recent years has often been her pianist). Yes, folks, this is good old fashioned showbiz fizz: brisk, bouncy, bubbling-over-with-happiness and celebrating the fun side of life and music. The Thompson originals "I Love a Violin," "Jubilee Time" and the uber-chipper opener "Hello, Hello" are dare-you-not-to-smile peppy pleasers, not for the eye-rolling curmudgeons or those looking for depth and drama. This is caffeine triple dose, perhaps more antic and frantic than some might want (and, sure, it was more thrilling on stage with the dance steps and interaction). The talented men sound marvelously buoyant on their own, singing "Liza," the old song by the Gershwins and Gus Kahn that Liza has used as her entrance music for years (Ira Gershwin was her godfather.) But this is far more than infectious fun: it's musical dynamite with very pleasing, often complex vocal harmonies from the men. Understandably, superstar Liza may have received most of the attention, but these guys are super and super-entertaining, doing excellent, careful work and blending wonderfully. All in all, it's a ball.
Charming, sly, ingratiating Johnny Rodgers brings his sense of joie de vivre and more than a dusting of lusting to the two songs on a recent EP. In celebration of and in reference to his work singing, dancing and sometimes playing piano in Liza Minnelli's show, the top-billed song (what would have been called the "A" side in the days of two-sided single discs) is a duet with Liza herself. Titled "Let's Make a Date," it has comments about kissing and hugging, making a date to consummate, if you want to take it that way, but many of the references are to the tour. They sing of taking bows, playing cities on the West Coast and in Europe, and magazine covers. A fun bit of fluff with a big wink, it acknowledges exaggeratedly their age gulf with a cute line about her asking to see his ID first. Johnny opens the song breezily, with Liza at first just tossing in a few side spoken comments. Then she takes the spotlight for a bit, sounding husky and brasher than on the Liza's at the Palace recording. She comes more into her stride as things build, and their spunky tongue-in-cheek chemistry is a neat little treat. The melody was written by Johnny, and he wrote the lyrics with Brian Lane Green. With a confident and playful sinuousness, steering clear of smarm, Johnny takes a gleeful ride with "You Can Leave Your Hat On," a Randy Newman number he's favored in concert for a few years. Addressed to a lover whom he wants to remove other items of apparel, the grin never becomes a leer in Johnny's style, singing and playing keyboards. Though neither song really showcases the range of his voice and the emotionalism he has brought to other work, the two tracks make for a lighthearted mini-vacation. As he showed his skill in vocal blending in the Minnelli salute to Kay Thompson vocal arrangements, here he has some fine singing help from Margaret Dorn, Janice Pendarvis and his wife, Georgia DeFalco. The recording ends on a happy bubble of zest with some extra spoken Lothario-like asides. Try not to blush on either track. His band of three fellow musicians is joined by seven players on saxes, trumpets and trombone. Producer Richard Barone, who did such fine work on Johnny's full-length album from a few years ago, is at the helm again. But their other recent collaboration (below) is the meatier stuff, while this 2-song release feels like dessert.
The more serious side of Johnny Rodgers comes through wonderfully and satisfyingly on his 4-song EP, a moving work with life-affirming themes. Top-billed "Bound Together" is a socially conscious song about all of us being part of one human family, emphasizing the frustrating tragedy of those who don't act accordingly, divisive instead ("all the fighting in the name of gods"). Not really a downer at all, but more an assertive anthem of peace and hope ("together we can make it right"), it harks back to pacifist songs of the 1960s with more determined optimism. Sung with impassioned determination to simply state its message of our common humanity, the title repeats often as the music builds and rises. This is a fairly simple number, with its message as clear as the bright vocals. It's Johnny's melody and the words a collaboration with the drummer from his band, Danny Mallon, who also joins in on vocals. "Cry for Freedom" also rings with hope while being equally open-eyed realistic and advocating what the title suggests ("Let the whole world hear you"). This and the highlight of the EP, "The Best of You In Me," are collaborations between Johnny and his producer/co-arranger, versatile Richard Barone (also heard on some vocal blends, which are prominent in the more pleading songs). The most well crafted and lyrically astute and specific, with nostalgic images of the bonding moments between parent and grateful grown child, the gentle "The Best of You In Me" is touching and is movingly sung, but with admirable restraint. Its solid pop structure and economic use of short phrases and effective repetition evoke instant feelings of remembered moments of parental support ("every slip, every fall, every catch of every baseball"), like a little box of photographs. A non-cloying Christmas song about a Christmas song, with nods to the religious aspects and the importance of keeping loved ones close and cherished, "Lord Let the Angels Sing" is another sincere and guileless embrace of humanity and faith. Featured on vocals—though I wish he were more prominent as he is one of my favorite contemporary singers but his mellowness makes his presence more subtle—is Ben Taylor. This track is also available separately as a single, issued this past Christmas. Let's hope for another full-length album soon by the very appealing and musically adept Johnny Rodgers. It's been a long wait since his strong debut. Pop is the order of the day for Cortés Alexander's solo CD, Swell. The singer-actor-dancer's work here is often as smooth laidback easygoing as his work in Liza Minnelli's stage show was high energy and razzle dazzle. With studio polish and layered sounds, the satiny vocals are part of an ambience that is moody and like slow-burning embers. With a sense of relaxing, even when emotions suggested by the lyrics might stir up the fire, this likeable, easy-to-take excursion is not for those looking for something resembling Liza territory. Occasionally, things do build to a slight fever pitch, as in the end of "Any Day Now." Some of the tracks emphasize beats and rhythms and a groove, more than being lyric-driven or character pieces. The layered background vocals, prominent on many cuts, are all his voice, which has many colors. The experience in vocal groups, including The Tonics, serves him well, and the overlapping, flowing vocal parts often take the main focus, for better or worse. But on one of the more serious-minded songs, "The Parade," the drama comes through, too. As skillful as the multi-tracking is, the layers of vocal velvet can be less effective than the intimacy and honesty on display in the uncluttered straight solo vocal line of the emotional and intimate "Love'll Come & Do Just That" by Helen Slater. (Ten of the 16 tracks are examples of his own songwriting, mostly on his own.) A couple of big pop hits from yesteryear's vocal groups are welcome additions. "Last Train to Clarksville," which some of us remember as a guilty pleasure from The Monkees, has more grit and drive in it instead of just a train fueled by bubble gum. An extended wordless section puts the focus back on the cloned vocal tones. A laidback mood, no-rush/no-worries attitude and steady drum beats take the 1960s ardent vow "Never My Love," recorded by The Association, into Valium territory. It's kind of whisper-sung seductively at first, then turns more satisfying with some liquidy falsetto leaps and a switch to Spanish in the middle. A slow-tempoed float down the yellow brick road of Oz with "If I Only Had a Brain" is a lovely surprise, floating and seemingly suspended in space. Instrumentation includes the singer and McKay Garner, his producer, both on keyboards (the latter also plays guitar here and co-wrote "Rise" and "Empty Walls"). Best suited for times when you want music to just envelop you, some of the numbers are not fully engaging to those looking for intensity and build of drama or snap, crackle and pop—though it's surely pop. Many more albums to discuss throughout March ... my CD player runneth over.
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LIZA MINNELLI 
JOHNNY RODGERS
THE JOHNNY RODGERS BAND
CORTÉS ALEXANDER
