JAZZ REVIEWS : McNeil a Clear Winner Over Audience

As the opportunities shrink to hear jazz as it was meant to be heard, performed with directness and intimacy in club settings, it is unfortunate that some club-goers don’t respect that intimacy. That was the case Saturday at the Cafe Lido when Dee Dee McNeil, one of Southern California’s busiest and skilled vocalists, had her first set sullied by a dull roar from the crowd.

More’s the pity. McNeil, who thinks of her voice as an instrument, continues to improve as a musician, singing in a way that melds rhythmic savvy, a mix of clear, well-pitched tones and a playful scat approach into a holistic, satisfying presentation. In asides and song introductions, she looks to educate her audience while paying respect to her artistic forebears. But that effort makes for a dose of bitter irony when the audience shows such little respect for what she’s doing on the bandstand.

In fairness, there were only a few tables inside the Lido that made the listening difficult for those truly interested in hearing McNeil and her supporting cast work. This current disregard for live music seems to stem from a notion, held by some and influenced by popular culture, that jazz is background music, the stuff of soundtracks and advertising. And that thinking is clearly born of ignorance.

What the stupid and those sitting near them missed was a strong set of blues and standards from the singer and her band, which included assured saxophonist Charles Owens and drummer Mel Lee. The band strutted its stuff on a pair of opening numbers, including a rhythmically powerful rendition of Horace Silver’s “Song for My Father.” Owens, playing tenor, was particularly invigorating through these instrumental numbers, pedaling through a series of circular figures.

McNeil, who’s been working on-and-off at the Lido for about three years with a variety of able sidemen, brought her usual enthusiasm and glow to the stage, while mostly seeming unperturbed at the racket coming from the floor. At one point during her slow introduction of “Bye Bye Blackbird,” she improvised on the lyric, gently chiding the crowd to pay attention. Then she waited, in vain, for quiet. So with a shrug, she jumped into an up-tempo, be-bop inspired delivery with the band wailing behind.

McNeil, who rearranges most of the familiar material to her own liking, provides object lessons when she sings. Billie Holiday’s version of “Lover Man,” she explained, was the first time a black American woman had sung with a string section. Her Alberta Hunter-inspired medley of “Workin’ Man Blues,” Miles Davis’ “All Blues” and Joe Williams “Every Day I Have the Blues” moved easily between themes with one tune melting easily into another. Her upbeat delivery on “Stormy Monday” turned the lament into a fun-filled romp that was peppered with her alliterative scat.

Owens, who’s particularly adept at the blues, saved his best work for the soprano saxophone. On “Lover Man,” he wove long, complex statements that expanded the mood of the melancholy lyric. On “Quiet Nights,” he applied flute embellishments, then improvised with a light touch and dancing figures.

Pianist Bobby Pierce was equally impressive, stringing together long lines and harmonic passages while adding color from an electric keyboard set atop the acoustic piano.

Drummer Lee was especially strong during exchanges with Owens, and bassist Tomas Gargamo, a model of pitch and timekeeping, added upper-register decoration that complemented both the singer and the saxophonist.