Sarah Vaughan vs. the '70s

When I was roughly 11 I went to visit my grandfather in Los Angeles. During one of the days that we spent together, he had some business related errand to run, which, I was all too happy to accompany him on.

We got into his blue Ford Taurus and pulled out into city traffic. Being a fan of big band jazz, my grandfather spun the radio dial until he found something that suited his tastes. At this particular point in my life, jazz wasn’t necessarily something I was drawn towards – the Beach Boys and the Beatles, perhaps, but not jazz singers.

My grandfather turned to me and said, “This is the most beautiful voice you’ll ever hear. It’s Sarah Vaughn.”

I never forgot that sentiment, although I have no idea what song was playing when I was granted this piece of information. Regardless, as I eventually worked my way through jazz history, picking up favorite players of this and that, Sarah Vaughn remained a revered figure to me, but not one that I necessarily listened to all that much.

Vaughn’s big band sides remain what she’s most known for. Performing in various ensembles, occasionally alongside the likes of Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis and Charlie Parker, the singer was able to integrate instrumental advancements into her own work. It might be a bit obtuse to figure all of this from renditions of “Interlude,” but it’s there.

As the ‘40s came to a close, Vaughn continued on roughly the same trajectory through the ‘50s. The following decades wouldn’t be cruel to her, but Vaughn didn’t maintain the same sort of spot in the jazz world as time wore on. Recordings were still regular until the end of the ‘60s when she took a four year break from the studio.

In 1971, though, Vaughn returned on a Mainstream Records date entitled A Time in My Life. Taking advantage of a studio crew of players, the disc didn’t have too much to do with big band jazz, but instead sought to incorporate some Latin sounds, soul and a bit of funk. The album wasn’t a focused effort, but with Vaughn’s always stellar singing voice, it wound up being a far sight better than it could have been.

Most of the tunes here were culled from pop hits of the time. Opening with John Lennon’s “Imagine” the disc is still surprising. The cover maintains a familiar pacing and gets punched up with some horns and the like. It arrives as nothing more than an homage to good songwriting, if not being a great performance.

More appropriate for a variety of reasons is the rendition of Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues.” The countless variations of the song are generally somewhat disappointing. Vaughn and the band, which gets funkier here than anywhere else on the disc, turn in perhaps the strongest cover of the classic tune.

With the remainder of the album sounding tossed off after “Inner City Blues,” fans still might want to track down A Time in My Life for that single song. Good luck.