She’s Who She Is

Picky, Picky.

So Nancy Wilson isn’t a bona fide jazz singer. So she’s a histrionic balladeer, emoting so fiercely that some critics have nicknamed her Lady Macbeth. And, the fault-finders continue, she doesn’t sing enough jazz, or enough blues, or enough. . . .

Enough already, say Wilson’s loyal fans to carping critics--who are mainly jazz critics.

“When I was younger and just starting out, they were much harder on me,” says Wilson, a smartly dressed sophisticate who’s the kind of woman Mills, Parish and Ellington must have had in mind when they wrote “Sophisticated Lady.”

It’s not that jazz critics think she can’t sing. They look at her as a talent who has gone astray--who’s more concerned about her glamorous image than down-to-earth singing.

Those are fighting words--for anybody else, that is. Not for Wilson.

She does, however, clarify her status. What she is, she insists, is a misunderstood song stylist.

“I can sing everything, jazz, blues, pop, R&B--and; I do sing everything,” says Wilson, who will demonstrate her versatility Thursday at a Greek Theater show featuring trumpeter Wynton Marsalis.

“That’s what a stylist does,” she explains. “I don’t limit myself. I’m not just a jazz singer, or just a blues singer or a just soul singer. I sing it all. But I sing all of those better than a lot of people.”

Wilson, 51, has been singing 36 years. As a novice, she was primarily inspired by the heart-wrenching ballads of Billie Holliday and Dinah Washington.

“A ballad is an incredible vehicle for passion,” she says. “I love to show passion when I’m singing. If the song is about somebody’s heart breaking, the singer should act like that--smolder and show anguish, to get that concept across. Maybe I do it too much to suit some people.”

Some critics, anyway.

Backed by a small combo, Wilson sings a wide selection of melancholy ballads, including the stark, clever “Guess Who I Saw Today.” Nobody does that one better.

Age apparently agrees with Wilson. Her voice used to be higher and her range a little narrower.

“My voice is a lot fuller and deeper now, and I have a wider range,” she points out, puffing on a cigarette--supposedly a blight on a singer’s throat.

Why smoke the cigarettes?

“I do what I do,” she says matter-of-factly.