Twenty-two years ago, Norah Jones rose to stardom at age 23 with the release of her instant debut, “Come Away With Me.” A laid-back mix of jazz, folk, pop and country, the LP sold 4 million copies in its first 12 months and spawned an adult contemporary radio staple in the ballad “Don't Know Why”; In early 2003, Jones' music won Grammy Awards for album, record and song of the year, while she was named best new artist.
Since then, Jones has used his talent and curiosity (not to mention the resources he enjoys as one of the latest success stories of the CD era) to pursue all kinds of projects, including collaborations with Willie Nelson, Danger Mouse and Billie from Green Day. Joe Armstrong; a rough-and-tumble country trio called Puss N Boots; a podcast in which he jams with friends like Dave Grohl and Mavis Staples; even a foray into acting with his role in Wong Kar-wai's 2007 film, “My Blueberry Nights.”
However, his latest work is his most interesting in years: “Visions,” a funky, gently psychedelic garage-soul record that puts his sultry vocals amid fuzzy guitars, unbalanced drums, and crumpled vintage keyboards. Jones, now 44, made the album, due Friday, with producer Leon Michels, known for his work as a member of the late Sharon Jones' band, the Dap-Kings.
“At first it sounded pretty weird,” Michels said of the recording process. “I was thinking, okay, cool, eventually we'll call the players and do really clean versions, which we tried a couple of times.” The river. “Every time, Norah said, 'This isn't better.' So a lot of the songs that made up the album are just our demos.”
Jones, who grew up in Texas (her father was the famous sitarist Ravi Shankar, who died in 2012), lives in New York with her husband, musician Pete Remm, and their 9-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter. She talked about “Visions” in her manager's office in Los Angeles the day after the Super Bowl (which happens to be a good time to shoot a music video on the Santa Monica Pier). “I'm not really into sports,” she said, “but my friend and I just hung out in my hotel room and watched the halftime show. It was fun.”
I'm not sure you're a natural at Super Bowl halftime.
Probably not.
But what's the closest you've come to that kind of high-pressure performance?
Maybe the Grammys? They offered me the national anthem a lot from the beginning. I never did it. And then at a certain point I thought: I should have done that. That would have been an experience.
Why did you say no?
There was a lot going on in the world at the time (it was the early 2000s) and I wasn't feeling super patriotic. But I wasn't trying to make a political statement by No doing it.
Your song “my dear country”, about the re-election of George W. Bush, addresses that ambivalence.
I'm not a black and white person. That song expresses a complex feeling of loving something but questioning it. This country is so beautiful in so many ways. But I think at that moment I was really becoming aware of things in a way I never had before.
There is a line in which You sing, “Who knows, maybe I'm not deranged.” Today, your audience would assume you are talking about Donald Trump.
When I did the song during the last election, that line played. But I think it always feels appropriate because we're always like, what the fuck is going on? I almost don't want to sing it anymore because it's too sad to feel that way.
This new album slightly rethinks your singing and songwriting. It's rawer than I've gotten used to thinking about your music.
A lot of people have an image of me being kind of soft. But I've always made records this way: “Don't Know Why” was a take with a live band. I just have a soft voice. I'm not saying I haven't relaxed a little. It's probably true. But I've never polished things. If anything, I've tried to make it harder because know I sound soft and always wanted to be more like Ray Charles. I think it's just that León and I had a lot of fun playing together. I remember a little sweating and breathing heavily as we finished each song, like in high school. It's that raw feeling of: Oh my God, music!
Norah Jones at the 45th Grammy Awards in 2003.
(Richard Corkery/NY Daily News via Getty Images)
León produced his 2021 Christmas album, which was his first Christmas album. I'm surprised some record executive hasn't pushed you to make one much sooner.
That would mean I do everything commercially.
Had you actively said no to a Christmas album?
I don't remember that happening. But I never wanted to do something cheesy. Whether you think my early records were cheesy or not, I wasn't trying to get into that; I was trying to get away from that as much as possible.
Do you like Christmas music?
I love Christmas music. I remember listening to Christmas music in April during the pandemic. It snowed in New York that first month. We made pancakes and played Christmas records, and we thought we were doing very well. When I look back, I realize how bad it was. We did an extra year of Zoom school just to be safe – worst decision I've ever made.
What did you have in mind when you were writing the songs for “Visions”? They speak of home and loneliness but also of a longing for freedom.
I'm not sure. I don't really know until things come to light if I felt a certain way. She was just playing mom, you know? The same juggling act as always: working, going out with the kids, coming up with extracurricular activities.
Do you take time out of your home life to write songs?
I've never been good at that. I'm more likely to pick up a melody that's bouncing around in my brain and record it really quickly so I don't forget it. Of course, there is no time when your mind can be at ease because there is always someone asking a question. This actually happens in the bathtub when the door is closed. Many of my voice notes have the bathroom running in the background.
You are pro-bathroom.
There is a really beautiful Sylvia Plath. [line] about how a hot bath can solve almost anything. I agree with that idea.
You drink?
I like a little wine with dinner. I drank a lot when I was 20 and I'm definitely happy that I don't drink as much as I used to. Heck, we've closed bars in New York City in the past. I hope my kids don't drink so much. But I don't think that generation likes this.
It does not seem.
They don't even want to have sex. I think it's the phones.
You smoke marijuana?
I always wanted to be a smoker, but it's not necessary. I still think I will eventually, and I've had periods where I was high for like a week.
If you were high for a week, I think did carry.
But I never continued it. If I had the best curation you can get now, then maybe? But with kids you don't want a bunch of gummies lying around.
The Grammys just happened. When Billie Eilish took the show by storm in 2020, I wonder if you felt like you could relate.
A bit. She was much younger than me, but what she identified with me was how embarrassed she felt. Some of these young women go up there and they're very confident and they say, “I deserve it.” And I love that. But that's not how I responded.
There is a “60 minutes” profile a few years after your big night at the Grammys, where you say you had had enough of fame. Do you still feel that way?
Honestly, sometimes I wish I had enjoyed it a little more. I feel a little nostalgic for those things. But I don't regret anything. And the fact that I can live a normal life and still put out albums and tour all summer is great.
Norah Jones and Willie Nelson perform at the Beacon Theater in New York City in 2003.
(Kevin Mazur/WireImage via Getty Images)
What did you think of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” at this year’s Grammys?
I was moved to see it, it made me want to cry.
Many people had that reaction. Have you thought why?
I think people were moved for many reasons. One of my best friends started crying because we have a friend who committed suicide in college and she used to sing that song all the time. You have to remember that you can't just analyze the collective consciousness. Everyone has their own attachments to music that are personal to them. That's why I never want to tell people what my music is about.
Why do you want to leave space for their own lives in your songs?
It's not your business either. [Laughs].
Joni Mitchell also performed at the Grammys.
I love her. I think it's important for older musicians to play music. My dad played until he was 92 and then he died. I think if he had tried not to play or stop playing, he probably would have faded away sooner. Check out Willie: I was with him a few months ago. [at New York’s Forest Hills Stadium]. I was a big fan of your sister Bobbie. [who died in 2022], and they've been using another keyboard player who was at another gig that night. So [harmonica player] Mickey [Raphael] He asked me if I wanted to come play in the keyboard seat all night and it was the funniest thing in the world because Willie was just having fun.
This is what Joni has seemed like in these comeback shows she's been doing.
Maybe that's the only reason he does it. Maybe it was the way to rehabilitate her from her aneurysm. Maybe in that place, you're ready to let go, but if someone gives you a goal to work toward, you say, well, I can try to do that. And then it becomes your whole new life.
Are you a reader of musical biographies?
Not precisely. I just bought Barbra Streisand's book. I thought it would be interesting.
Did you ever meet her?
I met her once. I said the dumbest thing: I think she had a martini. It was after the Oscars [in 2013]. She acted and I acted, and I said, “You sounded beautiful.” She said, “Really? Thank you. “I was really nervous.” And then I said, “Oh, that nervous thing where your voice shakes? “I didn’t hear that at all.” She was very sweet, but to myself I thought, What am I saying? Shut up, Jones! This is Barbara.
