Ada Bird Wolfe's Birdie

With women jazz singers, it's not always about the voice. Sometimes it's about the story behind the voice, and how you should read that story first so everything will click later. Ada Bird Wolfe's story, like many good stories, is about redemption and rediscovering your purpose in life after living a significant part of your lifetime. Wolfe (I can almost hear her say "please, call me Birdie!") wanted to sing and act from an early age, and her parents supported her by enrolling her in music classes. By the time she earned a degree from University of Chicago (in Philosophical Psychology), she could play the piano, cello, guitar, sax and flute.

As they like to say at this point of the story, life got in the way. We all know that story, unless we're Mark Zuckerberg. Wolfe did focus on writing and made a career out of it, but in 2010 she decided to give singing one more shot and soon was performing in LA in such places as Hollywood Studio Bar & Grill, The Gardenia and the somewhat notorious Vitello's. She's also described as "a deeply thoughtful person with a spiritual inclination," which isn't unheard of in Los Angeles. Once you listen to her voice, however, you'll forget about most of her history because it only tells part of the tale.

Wolfe comes from that wry, world-weary and reflective camp of jazz singers, that same part of the block where Peggy Lee asked if that's all there is while Marlene Dietrich told Orson Welles to lay off the candy bars. She's fascinating because she's so down, so blue, just covered with layer after layer of heartbreak that won't scrub off. Sometimes her voice isn't even there any more, and yet you can still hear it, heavy in the air. Even on upbeat tunes like "Four," she sounds like she's headed off for a serious reconsideration of her life choices once she gets the hell of the stage. Part of me thinks there's a camp element to her delivery, but then I also envision this as a revival of her acting dreams--she's playing a role here, and she's really great at it.

She's surrounded by a first-class jazz ensemble, led by pianist/arranger Jamieson Trotter, who guide her through what she calls "Giant Shoulders"--entire shows devoted to jazz legends such as Davis, Mingus, Monk and Coltrane. The mix of originals and standards on Birdie also highlight the versatility of this singer and her band, since they can handle ballads, Latin jazz, blues and classic bebop. They're so good at what they do, and that reinforces the idea that Wolfe is all in and serious, too. But I can't help but think about all the new textures her voice adds to these tunes if she is playing that role, up on stage, and wondering what else is going to happen before the night is done.