★★★☆☆
Why isn’t she better known? Lizz Wright possesses one of the most beautiful voices around, regardless of category, yet the American singer has never quite received the recognition she deserves. Prince was in the audience for her show in Minneapolis only two nights before his death, but it’s probably safe to say that 99 per cent of his fans have never heard of her.
Perhaps she is one of those artists who have yet to find the right material and the right producer. Wright’s gospel-inflected contralto is a gorgeous instrument — she has something of Anita Baker’s warmth and a far more interesting repertoire, part folk, part blues. Perhaps she is just too versatile for her own good. Wright’s albums, tasteful, brave but oddly diffuse, seldom seem to capture her rootsy personality.
Her concert in the Cheltenham Jazz Festival — entirely devoted to Gershwin standards — was another tantalising encounter. Singing evergreens doesn’t come naturally to her, and in this format she was constantly nudged aside by extended solos in arrangements (conducted by Jim McNeely) that were usually efficient rather than inspirational. Wright has never been the most extrovert of characters, and because she did not even have the chance to speak to the audience she sometimes appeared to be something of a bystander.
Her soulful, inner beauty shone through, nevertheless, on My Man’s Gone Now, in which the unadorned lines suited her instinctive approach. The jazzier numbers would have worked better in the hands of the likes of Dianne Reeves: Wright navigated each arrangement with care and professionalism, but seldom cut loose. However, Slap That Bass did contain some fireworks, the singer responding to the updated, funky ambience and the Marcus Miller-like electric bass riffs. With luck, she will be back soon and in a setting that finally does her justice.