Wayne Powers' If Love Were All

Wayne Powers, the second part of this two-fer, seems to walk the same rainy urban streets as Maurice Frank. The only problem with that observation is that Frank is a New Yorker while Powers plied his trade for years in Los Angeles, working with a band named Hoi Polloi. While Frank's album is his debut, Powers has recorded albums. His last one, however, was released in 1993. His story, therefore, is slightly different: "In the intervening quarter century, Powers' life has been full with both the poignant and the joyous--as all lives are." This seems to imply that life got in the way of Powers' singing career, and he has been working hard to get back to where he once belonged.

On the surface, this album sounds very similar to Mad Love and Romance. There's one subtle difference, of course, and that's Powers' equally amazing voice. Franks is upfront and genuine--he's just showing the world his gift and wants you to take him as he is. (I know, I said I wasn't going to compare the two.) Powers' voice, however, seems to be tinged with all of that experience he gained 25 years ago. He's more of a belter, and his voice is set back further from the front of the stage to accommodate that big delivery. There's a deeper resonance in his voice that sometimes sounds like he needs to distance himself from the emotions expressed in these love songs since they're still a bit too raw. There's something in his voice that suggests more of those poignant and joyous moments, and he may not be willing to let the audience see all of that pain.

Sinatra used to do that as well. Ol' Blue Eyes had a wry way of singing songs that revealed his strategy--sure that stuff happened to me, but years have gone by and I'm ready to move on even though it still hurts some. You'll also hear plenty of Sinatra in Powers' voice, the way he digs down deep and treats each lyric as if he's telling a story rather than talking solely about his feelings in front of strangers. Here and there you'll detect a catch in his voice, a moment where he starts to reveal something deep and personal and then changes his mind. Not every singer can add that much subtext to a love song. Sinatra could, and so can Powers.

Powers is backed by a relatively understated quartet--tenor sax player Ziad Rabie, pianist Keith Davis, bassist Ron Brendle and drummer Al Sergel--and they are there in service to that powerful voice. That's not to say the musicians are any less skilled than on "that other album"--they focus instead on creating a beautiful mood as a single, coherent unit. Another plus is that these performances were all captured live in the studio, so there's a spontaneous feeling afoot even if the solos aren't quite as dominant.

As I said, I won't tell you which of these two albums I preferred. There's a flow between them, but not one that feels like two separate albums from the same crew, captured at different times. The feelings, however, are still the same...a "personal yet universal saga of love lost and love found."

Maurice Frank's Mad Romance and Love

Today I'd like to tell the story of two jazz singers, Maurice Frank and Wayne Powers. Both of their CDs arrived in my mailbox on the same day, sent from the same publicist in the same padded envelope. Both men look physically similar, the proverbial grey foxes, and they've both set out to sing classics from the Great American Songbook. Both CDs have love in the title. Both men are surrounded by small ensembles that are absolutely fantastic. The natural course would be to compare them, to determine how well each man accomplishes this rather common (not sure if I like that word, since very few people can pull off this task) goal. But I don't like comparisons. They each possess singular strengths that will get you in the mood for love.

Maurice Frank is first, and he's remarkable since he's yet another singer who's been around forever but is just now getting around to releasing his first album. "Maurice Frank is a native New Yorker. He grew up listening to the great singers of the '50s and '60s and it left its mark on him." That implies Frank was one of those guys in the neighborhood. You know, the guy who had all of his friends and family saying "Have you ever heard Maurice sing jazz? He's amazing! The next time he's over, ask him to sing you something!" From looking at his photo on the cover, he seems to be one cool cat, well-dressed, wearing a beautiful suit open at the collar. He's a jazz guy, through and through.

From that countenance he seems gruff, a guy who's lived jazz close to the blacktop for many decades. His voice, however, is surprisingly light and agile, bordering on that classic croon of people like Bobby Vinton or even Bobby Darin. He's not into weird jazz affectations--his voice is clear and strong and classically beautiful, full of a warm and a longing embrace of every note. His voice has that familiar warmth to it, a feeling that he looks at every word he's singing and then determines the best way to include the right emotions. He's the kind of guy you might see singing at a club, and you might wonder why you haven't heard of him already. He's a charmer.

As I mentioned, his ensemble is as real and as talented as it gets. John DiMartino handles the arrangements and plays a subtle, understated piano that's matches Frank's warmth note for note. Two horn players, Eric Alexander and Aaron Heich, add plenty of excitement--they build on the energy Frank creates. Guitarist Paul Meyers, bassist Luques Curtis, drummer Obed Calvaire and percussionist Samuel Torres are pros in the best sense of the word, occasionally showing what they're made of but providing the kind of smooth support that never outshines Frank's remarkable gifts.

If this sounds like the kind of music that would please you to no end, it is exactly that. This is music meant to be heard with your sweetheart, your true love. He's establishing a sublime mood, and there should be more singers like him.

Oh, wait...there is!