McRae strips things back and lets her voice do exactly what it needs to do: convince you.
By 1973, Carmen McRae had spent two decades building a reputation as one of jazz's most intelligent singers � someone who understood harmony the way a pianist does, who could reshape a melody without losing its soul. Ms. Jazz finds her recording for Groove Merchant, a label that gave her room to work without the commercial pressure of the major labels. The album is straightforward: McRae's voice, a small but well-chosen group, nothing fancy. What matters is that she sounds completely comfortable, which means you will be too.
The band is quietly excellent. Zoot Sims on tenor saxophone brings warmth without grandstanding � he understands his role is to support rather than compete, and the interplay between his phrasing and McRae's is one of the album's quiet pleasures. Bucky Pizzarelli's guitar gives the arrangements a light, clean texture that suits the material. Tom Garvin on piano stays attentive, and the rhythm section holds everything together without drawing attention to itself. McRae had spent years working in small combos, and it shows � she knows how to breathe with musicians rather than over them.
In McRae's catalog, this isn't the obvious starting point � her work for Decca and Atlantic has more renown and wider availability. But if you've already discovered her and want to hear her doing what she does best without any clutter, Ms. Jazz is exactly that: a professional at work, comfortable in her own skin, with exactly the right people around her.