Carter's voice becomes an instrument that bends around the musicians rather than leading them.
Betty Carter didn't make this record to prove she could sing pretty. By this point in her career, she'd already shown everyone that. Instead, It's Not About The Melody (1962) is about her working out what happens when you stop treating a song like a fixed thing to be interpreted and start treating it like a conversation. The title itself is her saying it out loud: forget what you think the tune should sound like. Listen to what I'm doing with it.
What's immediately striking is how conversational the arrangements are. The musicians aren't playing behind Carter so much as playing alongside her, and she's responding to them in real time. Her phrasing fractures and reassembles itself across bars, sometimes landing ahead of the beat, sometimes behind it, always intentional. Songs get stretched and compressed. She'll abandon a melodic line entirely if something else seems more interesting to explore. It's jazz singing at its most assertive—this isn't interpretation, it's argument and collaboration happening simultaneously.
This record sits somewhere between her earlier work and the more experimental stuff she'd do later. It's not an easy album to live with. Some listeners will find it frustrating, all that refusing to give you the melody straight. But that's the point. Carter's saying the real artistry isn't in hitting the notes everyone expects—it's in what you discover when you stop chasing them. If you're just getting into Carter, start with something more straightforward first. But if you've been listening to her work and wondering where her boldest ideas went, this is the record that answers that question.