Live Review: Norah Jones

Norah Jones’s latest solo album Begin Again is billed as being a reset or coming ‘full circle’ as she seeks to return to the same minimal yet evocative compositions of her breakout album, Come Away With Me. In 2005, she enthralled Melbourne audiences in this very same theatre with her tiny, homespun band including her then-partner.

And just like a time warp, we find ourselves back again tonight: the same respectfully sedate audience, the grand dame theatre, Jones herself, and songs that feel so stylistically comfortable and familiar. On this occasion however, she is supported by four new band members taking turns on the keyboard, pedal steel, drums, guitars, and double bass. And something else.

Her voice has simply matured into a stunningly rich, complex instrument that effortlessly commands her preferred genre-bending concoction of blues, jazz, country and folk, with light touches of rock. Almost a decade and a half ago, despite winning a swag of Grammys, selling millions of albums, and being touted as a wunderkind, with musical blueblood, no less, Jones appeared quite bashful, her only interaction with the audience the whole evening being a comment that we were all “so quiet”, and how beautiful the Palais was.

Tonight, she responds with a dramatically flung-out arm and a mildly surprised exclamation of “You speak!” when a lady in the audience begs her to sing Not Too Late, prompting a few chuckles. But just as before, she hardly engages in any banter with the audience except to briefly introduce a couple of songs – including a cover of Tom Waits’ Long Way Home with her strumming an acoustic guitar – but Jones easily wins us over with her wordless charm. For much of the evening, the capacity crowd sits in reverential silence and mediation, as Jones sits at the sleekly stretched grand piano.

The number of instrument swaps between Jones and each band member is impressively orchestrated, with Jones later adding an electric guitar to her repertoire. But her team thankfully plays with admirable restraint as they allow Jones' velvety, textured vocals and sharp piano virtuosity to take centrestage. Long strips of material in the backstage and a mood-matching lighting design enhance the ambience. Jones’s music has the uncanny ability of pulling us into its embracing intimacy no matter where we listen to her, and she once again succeeds tonight.

The perennial Sunrise gets an airing midway through with a Monet-like sun and moon artwork projected on the backstage material. What Am I To You? and Those Sweet Words – both also from her Feels Like Home album – also grace the microphone, perhaps in a clear nod to the heartfelt intention for her latest album. And while new songs My Heart Is Full, Just A Little Bit, It Was You, and Wintertime may not be as familiar earworms to us yet, they nevertheless bear Jones’s hallmark signature songwriting style of poetic lyrics rich in symbolism, accompanied by long instrumental bridges to display her band’s improvisational skills. 

If there is any nitpicking to be done, it is that she finished about ten minutes earlier than billed. Even though she closes her encore with a remarkably upbeat Don’t Know Why – with octave changes and shifting lyrics for a fresh take – we are gutted to find ourselves cast out on the pavement once more under the flashing lights and rumbling tracks of the Great Scenic Railway ride at Luna Park next door. Here’s to hoping we don’t have to wait so long for Jones’s return.