"Sometimes I like to walk out looking like a lady going to a luncheon ... I like to confuse everybody,"Rickie Lee Jones joked midway through her stellar performance at Clearwater's Capitol Theater on Wednesday night. Sporting a mid-crown white top hat, a short black dress and a scarf draped over her shoulder, Jones looked more the elegant socialite than the street urchin she usually more closely resembles.The jazz-pop vocalist has carved out her own special niche since her stunning self-titled debut album rocketed up the charts in 1979 and won the praises of just about every rock critic alive, retaining a devoted, loyal fan base since her arrival on the scene as evidenced the loud, boisterous crowd who filled every seat in the cozy theater.
Undoubtedly one of the most unmistakable and instantly recognizable voices of all time, Jones's breathy, plaintive warble — which can instantly switch from child-like innocence to ragged moan — was in fine shape on Wednesday night.
Without the aid of an opening act, Rickie and a superb five-piece took the stage well before 8 p.m. and got off to a rousing start with "Weasel and the White Boys Cool" from her very first album, reeling in the captivated audience and never quite letting go of them. As Jones delivered a fantastic rendition of the recognizable tune, a hush fell over the room as her fans relished every note of the "say good-bye to the barrio" refrain. From this opening number, it was clear she was in rare form. Strumming an acoustic guitar with the accompaniment of upright bass, mandolin and some crafty electric guitar work, Jones sounded amazing both vocally and musically, and she more than hit her stride with the vivid imagery of "The Last Chance Texaco," another standout from that celebrated debut. Her hushed intones that would soon rise up to a ringing wail gave the story-song the life and character only she could inject into it.
Jones did a fine job of juggling her catalog, focusing most heavily on her earliest works and on those from her fine recent release, The Other Side of Desire, and even treating fans to brand new material, which can sometimes be a risky move but Jones more than delighted the rapt crowd.
"Haunted" proved the most intriguing cut off the new album, a slow, trippy, soulful showstopper drenched in walls of wah-wah guitar. Sounding musically like a cross between Marvin Gaye's most introspective work and Bitches Brew-era Miles Davis, this was one of the many highlights of Jones's 90-minute tour de force.
Rickie Lee Jones has never been an artist to be pigeonholed; from her unorthodox vocal style to her fascination with a multitude of genres, this performance was a fantastic representation of the many faces and hats she's capable of wearing with the slightest of ease.
From the Fats Domino-inspired New Orleans strut of "J'ai Connais Pas" to the solo performance of the David Bowie glam rock anthem "Rebel Rebel" accompanied by her solo electric guitar playing, it's obvious that Jones knows no musical fear and there's no challenge she can't overcome at the mic.
Sitting at a massive grand piano at the rear of the stage for a few selections, Rickie related a vivid tale that started as an observation between the differences in the generations between when she and her hard-working mother came of age. The story took on a life of its own and she wound up describing a tawdry tale involving a handsome blonde Canadian fellow she encountered while traveling through the Northern American country and his eager friend who knew no better way to show his affection for Rickie than by randomly dropping his trousers. "It was in 1969 ... or it might have been 1970," Jones recalled as she reached back into the annals of her memory and giggled.
Of course she made sure to feature her most recognizable hit, "Chuck E.'s In Love", but she did so early in the set. In a drastically stripped down, unadorned arrangement, the song's real beauty and craftsmanship was shown in a most provocative and slinky rendition proving that a great song is a great song no matter how it's delivered.
Donning a pair of bright pink gloves for her gorgeous version of "Hi-Lili-hi-lo," the 1950's standard she covered on 1991's Pop Pop, Jones was accompamied by rich accordion and unleashed another stunning vocal performance while conjuring the feel of a French sidewalk cafe.
Ending the night with "Satellites," a jazzy standout from her fine 1989 Walter Becker-produced LP, Flying Cowboys, Jones interjected some inspiring words about how all of us really are satellites and that, whether we know it or not, we're all connected in some way now since we all shared the evening together.
With words nearly as moving as her stunning musical performances, Rickie Lee Jones made this one of the year's standout concerts; a sentiment undoubtedly shared by the crowd that feverishly and steadily chanted for another encore even as the house lights rose.