Jeanne Lee and Patty Waters: Feeling Tones

Trumpeter Booker Little once summed up Billie Holiday's genius by underscoring how Holiday "improvised on the feelings of the song and not just the notes." New CDs by jazz singers extraordinaire Jeanne Lee and Patty Waters, two shamefully neglected talents, drive Little's point home. Although the national arena is currently well supplied by women jazz singers who can scat and swing à la Ella or Sassy, Lee and Waters are among a precious handful who know how to mine the "feeling" tones resonating under the surfaces of jazz standards.

Jeanne Lee joins with pianist Mal Waldron on After Hours (Owl/EMI France), only her third recording as leader in more than three decades. As on her previous outings with pianist Ran Blake (The Legendary Duets, RCA, out-of-print; and You Stepped Out of a Cloud, on Owl), Lee focuses on jazz standards, emphasizing ballads performed at a languid (but never lazy) pace. She possesses an uncanny way of using her pitch-perfect, far-ranging, ever-fluid voice at the level of a whisper, creating the sense that she's sharing some intimate secrets.

"You Go to My Head," which she previously recorded with Blake, assumes a remarkable double identity here: a confession of feminine vulnerability and a hymn of visionary insight. "Straight Ahead," an Abbey Lincoln song focusing on the career obstacles African-American women like Lincoln and Lee often face, is a model of modulated stridency. The wistfulness in Mingus's farewell to Lester Young, "Goodbye Pork-Pie Hat," tugs fiercely on the heartstrings. Not only does Lee sing as if she meant every word, she digs into every syllable and emerges with innovative tones that project complex emotions. Waldron, who previously accompanied Lee's major inspirations (Billie Holiday and Abbey Lincoln), offers sparse, understated accompaniment. Bass notes pump like a haunted heart, treble clusters descend like hard-won tears. It's a forceful showcase of vocal artistry.

Like Lee, Waters has just three recordings reflecting a 30-plus years career, and she was discovered during the '60s by many of the same free-jazz leaders as Lee. A striking demonstration of their shared musical values (as well as their shared accompanist, Ran Blake) emerges on Waters's College Tour (ESP Disc/ZYX Music). "It Never Entered My Mind," performed in a breathy and whispery style, sounds like some spooky moment of Lee inhabiting Waters's body. The rest of Waters's songs from her two ESP discs harbor no such confusion, though they do reveal Waters to be a similarly close student of Billie Holiday's recordings.

Empathically supported by the inventive pianist Jessica Williams, Waters chooses a program of a dozen standards, many identified with Lady Day, to make her Love Songs (Jazz Focus/North Country Distribution) a winning collection. Notoriously controversial during the '60s for her cathartic readings of songs (her full-throated screaming anticipated Yoko Ono's by years), she has now mellowed so that her sotto voice is constant. But her interpretative penchant for emotional depths lingers lovingly. "Someone To Watch over Me" is a near-breathless and naked plea, yet never sacrifices musicality for emotionality. Williams plays ruminative runs on the piano's highest keys as Waters croons the ultimate music of deep longing. Two versions of "Don't Explain," that near-masochistic anthem to feminine forgiveness, find Waters personalizing Holiday's tune into a vehicle for proud self-exploration. There's even a hint of coy humor in her cover of Gershwin's "I've Got a Crush on You." After so many decades, it's time to welcome these women onto center stage.

-- Norman Weinstein