I’m not a jazz fan, but I clicked on a recent Wall Street Journal article simply because the subhead title caught my eye. ‘Nonagenarian’!?! Octogenarians are in their 80s. Nona? Nineties? Okay, this I had to hear. I jumped over to Spotify to listen to the album. Did I mention I don’t know much about jazz? Or Sheila Jordan – until I read a bit about her on Wikipedia.
Her new album Portrait Now is not the best introduction to this jazz legend. She sounds, well, like she’s 95. I made the mistake of comparing her to her younger self on Portrait of Sheila, which was released in 1963. The voice is still there, but the range is tempered 62 years later.
After the tragic story of Gene Hackman’s final days, I’m enthusiastic about Ms. Jordan’s album being made in the first place. Even better, she doesn’t hide behind autotune or a cacophony of instruments. It’s just her and two well-known jazz instrumentalists (guitarist Roni Ben-Hur and bassist Harvie S). It’s gutsy. It sounds like something a woman raised on the tough streets of Detroit would do.
As much as I admire her, I can’t listen to the album. Her earlier albums, yes. But not this one. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m caring for an octogenarian Dad. Or perhaps it’s because something has bothered my thoughts for many years:
When should a performer hang it up?
This thought has bothered me since Waylon Jennings’ Will the Wolf Survive? (1987), an album so heavily reverbed that it wasn’t the gravelly-voiced outlaw storyteller or crisp Dukes of Hazzard Balladeer I had grown up loving. I thought, “Has Waylon’s gotten too old to sing?” Until a couple of years ago, I thought Willie Nelson’s smooth voice would last to his dying breath. Not so. Many aging singers have experienced the vocal shroud of growing older.
There are those who embrace their aging voices and fit them into their performances. I say, play your age. We don’t want to hear Rod Stewart sing Do You Think I’m Sexy? like he did in his early days.
Older songsters can keep their names popular by giving us music reflecting where they are in life. The best example I can think of is Bluegrass legend Ralph Stanley at The Kent Stage in 2012. In his mid-80s, Mr. Stanley took a tumble down the backstage stairs a few hours before the concert. Doctors advised him to take it easy for the night. He didn’t. He was back on stage and put on a show that brought the house down. His version of O, Death that night brought chills. He passionately asked death for another year (he got four more). [Someone shared this song from Ralph Stanley’s 2012 visit to The Kent Stage. It’s not O Death, but still good]
Before that night, songs about death were mere musical interest. Watching an octogenarian who had just grievously hurt himself sing that ballad with no musical backing in a single spotlight surrounded by darkness – we felt that song. I think that’s why people loved Johnny Cash’s version of Hurt so much. Singers relate to lyrics through experience, and we relate to the experience through them. So, I’d love to hear Rod Stewart sing a revamped Do You Think I’m Sexy? from the point of view of an 80-year-old. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but I enjoy his 2021 version of Have I Told You Lately. It strikes a different chord with a 70-year-old singing in than when Van Morrison sang it in his 40s.
I’m unsure what Sheila Jordan could sing that reflects her age and wisdom. I hope she’s got one more album left in her. Whatever she brings from those vocal cords ought to be interesting. Maybe someone can write her a song entitled Nonagenarian. They can play it in 5/4 time. That seems appropriate for jazz.
“Wisdom is with the aged,
Job 12:12 (ESV)
and understanding in length of days.”