Artist: Norah Jones
Album: Visions
Genre: Vocal Jazz
Label: Blue Note
Released: 2024
Quality: FLAC (tracks+.cue)
Tracklist:
- All This Time (3:16)
- Staring at the Wall (4:31)
- Paradise (3:25)
- Queen of the Sea (4:47)
- Visions (2:42)
- Running (3:29)
- I Just Wanna Dance (3:08)
- I'm Awake (4:18)
- Swept Up in the Night (3:34)
- On My Way (3:52)
- Alone with My Thoughts (4:15)
- That's Life (4:22)
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Norah Jones named her eighth proper studio set Visions because many of the musical ideas occurred to her in the middle of the night, right when her consciousness was hazy: they weren't fully realized so much as an apparition. That sense of dreaminess carries through to the finished product but not in ways that are commonly associated with such a description. Far from being an album constructed for twilight hours -- a dimly lit excursion into mood music -- Visions is clear and light, its textures vividly articulated and its rhythms mellow and fluid. It's music that feels alive, inhaling and exhaling with a gentle insistence; it's never rushed, never clipped. Despite the record's inherent relaxation, Visions never quite proceeds in a linear path. Chalk this up to Jones' choice of collaborator. Working again with Leon Michels, a veteran of the seminal retro-soul outfit Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings who previously produced Norah's 2021 seasonal set I Dream of Christmas, Jones embraces the possibilities of psychedelic-tinged soul without succumbing to its trappings. Visions pulsates softly and sweetly, like a lava lamp slowly shifting colors in the background. The hues aren't hyper-saturated; they're pleasing pastels radiating warmth. The emphasis on atmosphere isn't unusual for a Norah Jones album -- after all, she has worked with hip-hop collage artist Danger Mouse -- but Visions feels bright and open. It glides between modulated soul jams, languid ballads, and hopeful pop tunes, each enlivened by flair that's felt more than heard: horns start to sigh in the background, Jones' voice gets an off-kilter filter, guitars take an elliptical journey to a resolving chord. The results aren't startling so much as they're fresh, avoiding musical and lyrical clichés. Witness "That's Life," a closing number that offers its inspirational advice not only with a knowing shrug but a song that rushes into a chorus and backs away on its bridge; the sentiment is familiar, but the execution isn't. It's a fitting farewell on a record that offers boundless imagination underneath its cool surface.
Review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine