SuperBlue, by Kurt Elling (2024)

1.

Gooped up on gop? You’d wanna’ supercharge your mind?Don’t live resigned in total blindness to that undefined reminder of what’s creeping up on your behind.Take the grime off of how sublime your time is.Spoken : The important thing is to pull yourself up by your own hair to turn yourself inside outand see the whole world with fresh eyes(“Marat/Sade”, 1965)When Super Blue brings on that new & fateful brew, pull on that righteous stew. Go askew. Just a flick of a trick will do you.Because, it’s true. It’s not what you’re used to. That girl is no deja vu. Her voodoo should re-jigger your mental tissue.One swish of this delicious dish will nourish your curiosity to see if she can really hold the key to what’s been waiting in your psychic undersea.In this is waiting every bliss. It’s like you’re being kissed and never dismissed.You’ll find you’re finally free. Success is guaranteed. She’s Super Blue. She’s honeydew; the make-or-break-through you, too, oughta’ get to pursue._______________You come unglued; corkscrew anew. She’s more than you knew you could do. Even colors go groovier too.She’s Super Blue. She’s honeydew; the make-or-break-through you, too, oughta’ get to pursue, too.

2.

Dig!Y' really wanna flip your lid?Step up & give a listen to the singer.Hip or square, say a prayer.When money's stiff, she’ll make it on a riff. She turns the major into minor cool.All over town she is renown. Woman’s the crown jewel of sound._____________ Dig it!That Sassy’s on a hipper trip.Rhythm, she can sharpen to a stinger.Blows insane. That’s her lane.She keeps it loose, a ballad or a blues Ten thousand hours on a thousand gigs.Takin’ the crown, uptown or down. She is the baddest around. _____________She’s brazen. / Simply amazin’.She’s blazing. / sh*t is hair-raisin’.Vibration’s a brain invasion.But her phrasing’s just like a saxophone. ___________Workin' in the daytime. Jammin’ ev'ry night.Blowin' over changes that would give most cats a fright. People call her “Sassy”. That’s her attitude.Actin' like the devil. But when she sings her blues, you know what she’s goin’ through…She’s brazen. / Simply amazin’.She’s blazing. / sh*t is hair-raisin’.Vibration’s a brain invasion.But her phrasing’s just like a saxophone. ___________ Watch Sassy take another swig. Now she’s gettin’ evil with the peopleCigarette… Final Set. Don’t wanna miss a prelude to a kiss.Even the trumpet player’s smilin’ know. She’s walkin’ the line, cuttin’ in rhyme, she is divine all the timeWorkin' in the daytime. Jammin’ ev'ry night. Hangin’ with the fellas, till she’s ready to ignite.People call her sassy, cuz she knows her mind. She became a living legend from songs she redefined She’s brazen. / Simply amazin’.She’s blazing. / sh*t is hair-raisin’.Vibrations her own creation.Her phrasing just like a saxophone.She’s brazen. / Simply amazin’.She’s blazing. / sh*t is hair-raisin’.Vibrations her own creation.Her phrasing just like a saxophone.

3.

Girl, don’t act so manic.I promise you we’re gonna be fine.Ain’t no need to panic.I’m telling you we’ll get our chance to shine.I got some reassurancethat things are gonna work this time.You know that we’ve been walking a dangerous line while all the world’s been spinning on a dimeWe go leaning out over the roof ledge. We should try to sit still.We keep sliding on the knife edge ...like to get the both of us killedBut He’s got the whole world in his hands. He’s got the whole wide world in his hands._________________ Don’t the new look frightening?We have come so far so fast.We’re like bottled lightning.But how we supposed to make it last?Love is life’s assurance,no matter how the dice get cast.The shell of fortune will turn again& what’s present now will soon be past.We go leaning out over the roof ledge when we should try to sit stillWe keep sliding up and down the knife edge, like to get the both of us killed.But He’s got the whole world in his hands. He’s got the whole wide world in his hands.________________ Well just remember - Well just remember what is really and truly and deeply true.And any time you can remember that you’ll get happy and smile the whole day through. All you are is just a tiny God-soul, paddling life’s canoe.Just take a ride down the river.Take a ride down the river & do what good that you can find to do.Do what good you can do.Do whatever good you can do... riding down the river ... in your little canoe.Maybe you’ll find you little canoe is, on occasion, big enough for two.Bang the groove ... on the groove on what is really true now ...... on what good you can do.

4.

Find it in the message undelivered — unsealed, unlimiting, impulse pivoting.Find it in a line of facts not figuring — brainwaves triggering — tripping a spring.Find it in a footfall — feeling like a phantom's faintly beckoning fitful reckoning.Find it in a failing candle’s muttering when it’s guttering.Find it in the hopeful, helpless stuttering song I’m uttering.Find it in becoming — drumming like a running wind horse carrying your foreshadowing.

5.

On my first take your shimmy-shake looked sexy across the room.I could just about taste it — desire-fire — the hit of a dark perfume.All of the shades down — the lights are low — the flow is happening.You flashing your baby blues — just a little peek-a-boo — & I started imagining.But then, I notice that button. It probably means nothin — just some kind of a joke.‘Cause girl, I think that you’re crushing. No point in discussing it, ‘cause you have to be ‘woke.But now you’ve got me wondering — & thinking all the sudden. Am I missing a trick?Are you a brick house or a brick?spoken: Huh. Is this, like… “dance 10 — thinks 3?”As I shake the question — & keep the connection — you boogie across the floorIn a reckless necklace & a little black dress & possibly nothing more.You fingers in my hair now — lingering there — knowing just what to do.Your lips are glistening — getting me listening — and then you whisper that “Q” is true. And that’s when you murder the moment. The rabbit hole opens on some stranger than strange.I guess that I should have known it — Your button means you’re into that Stormy-insane stuff. I wish you’d kept it on the physical plane …… because I can’t make it with your brain.spoken: The champagne in this bar is expensive. Don’t you think you should buy me another?‘Cause that’s when you murdered the moment. The rabbit hole opened on your stranger than strange.That button isn’t ironic. It’s Adrenochromic, and it’s some bloody insane.And, wow! That blows up the hook up. ‘Cause I ain’t wasting time cruising in your lane. Because now I’m only looking for grown-ups, and not some adolescent on a crazy-train.And you can buy your own expensive champagne … because I can’t make it with your brain.spoken:And now, the headlines:Bat-Boy found in cave 10 years ago says he’s not afraid of heights … Volunteers to operate NATO space laser!Disappeared brawny lumberjack Butch Jones released from 15 years as Bigfoot love slave.Mourning wife says, “He’s just not the man I married!”Vatican City miracle stunner! Tiny ghost of Pope John Paul the II living… under current pope’s hat!Shocking photos found in White House basem*nt reveal: 27th U.S. president William Howard Taft was actually … a woman! There’s pictures and everything!The end is near! Elvis tells mummy aliens to shut us down! We’re fired!!

6.

I don't ask, for much these daysAnd I don't bitch, and whine, if I don't get my wayI only wanna... fertilize another behind my lover's backI sit and watch it grow standin' at where I'm atFertilize another behind my lover's backAnd I'm keepin' my secrets mineI push my seed in her push for lifeIt’s gonna work because I'm pushin' it rightIf Mary drops my baby girl tonightI would name it Rock-N-RollI don't begFor no rich manAI don’t kick and screm when his sh*t don't fall in my handsBecause im gonna stillFertilize another against my lover's willlick the opposition cuz she don't take no pillOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-You'll be keeping my legend aliveI push my seed in her push for lifeIt’s gonna work because I'm pushin' it rightIf Mary drops my baby girl tonightI would name her Rock-N-RollI would name her Rock-N-RollI would name it Rock-N-RollI push my seed somewhere deep in her chestI push it naked cuz I've takin my testDeliverin' Mary it don't matter the sexI'm gon' name it rock and rollI'm gon' name it rock and rollI'll name it rock and rollRock-N-Roll,Rock-N-Roll,Rock-N-RollRock-N-Roll,Rock-N-Roll,Rock-N-RollI'm gon' name it rock and rollRock-N-Roll,Rock-N-Roll,Rock-N-RollRock-N-Roll,Rock-N-Roll,Rock-N-Roll I'm gon' name her rock and roll

7.

Come on! I’ve got a wandering feeling that it’s time for moving on.The arms upon the clock that’s on the wall are telling me that I’ve been standing still for much too long. A picture’s always blank before it’s drawn. The night is darkest just before the dawn.So you bring your tender brains & I can provide the brawn.Come On! I’ve got a vintage Ford Falcon that is hungry for the road.The chromium is polished in the knowledge that we’re headed for an altogether distant postal code.Might I suggest that on the way find the mystic motherlode.Maybe we can find our just deserts & grab ‘em à la mode !‘Cause when the night falls & stars shed their sparkler dims & don’t you know that God is Pooh-Bearholding out his honeyed paws to both of us from way out there?And when the spirit calls …… and both of us are filled up to the over-brim in that mescal & sage flavored air,Then you’ll know that you are Dean Moriarty and Sal Paradise is me!Come on! We’ll ball that jack straight until we reach the end of land and wash the miles off diving in the seaTwo holy goofs having a good time & sodden on a aubergine toboggan, smoking constantly.You never know just what there is to find until you start looking,You never know just what you’re gonna dine on until you start cooking, yeah! And when the morning strolls and the great unrolling scroll of our lives imbibes and inscribes our heroic drives on the parchment of eternal vibes, we two holy-empty bowls with our ever-burning baby ember soul-coals — they watch & behold as we patrol down the fold in the rolls in the future-Buddha foretold mold, where bodhisattva whisper the Bodhi-being code and we find out path to the sold-out hold-out motherlode of what can never be eroded! (Don’t say I never told it!)Now, you don’t actually have to leave home to get the job done, but I promise you it can sure be a lot more fun!Two on the road is always better than one, son.spoken: Now: the thing about what we’re after, sometimes it’s invisi-bala-tash-is-ness. Sometimes it’s hiding. Not because it wants to. It’s not a little afraid of you. Maybe you’re a little afraid of you.Hey:But you can’t always see it, but it’s always there.You might forget to feel it - but then you say, ”it feels unfair!” But it ain’t just disappeared because it’s always in the air.And just because you win’t awake — it don’t mean you ain’t aware.So, listen up! ‘Cause the deepest truths ain’t written in no book.They’re all around you all the time, but you use your heart to look.They may be in a candy bar, maybe in a Baby Ruth, That brings back the true Madeleine of your long-lost youth. They may be waiting to be found in the freezing winter brook,Or in the photograph of a long-lost stare that somehow leaves you shook.They’re in the stories children tell or in an acrid, smokey smell. They’re in a breath when a story’s done, or the ringing of a bell.But they’e always there — like math itself; or whatever pre-exists.They’ll outlast your every waking doubt — ‘cause the truth always persists.The truth always persists. spoken: Well, let’s see. We have a full tank of gas, a half a pack of cigarettes. It’s dark. And we’re wearing sunglasses.Hit it!

8.

We put up our tent on a darkGreen knoll, outside of town byThe train tracks and a seagull dumpTopping the bill was Horse Face EthelAnd her 'Marvellous Pigs In Satin'We pounded our stakes in the groundAll powder brownAnd the branches spread like scaryFingers reachingWe were in a pasture outside KankakeeAnd One Eyed Myra, the queen ofThe galley who trained theOstrich and the camelsShe looked at me squinty with herOne good eye in a Roy OrbisonT-shirt as she bottle fedAn orangutan named TripodAnd then there wasYodeling Elaine theQueen of the air who wore aDollar sign medallion and sheHad a tiny bubble of spittleAround her nostril and aLittle rusty tear, for she hadLassoed and lost anotherTipsy sailorAnd over inThe burnt yellow tentBy the frozen tractor, theMusic was like electric sugarAnd Zuzu Bolin played'Stavin' Chain' and MightyTiny on the saw and heThrew his head back with aMouth full of gold teethAnd they played 'Lopsided heart'And 'Moon over Dog Street'And by the time they played "Moanin Low"I was soakin' wet and wild eyedAnd Doctor Bliss slipped me aPreparation and I fell asleep with'Livery Stable Blues' in my earAnd me and Molley Hoey drankPruno and Koolaid and she had aTattoo gun made out of a cassetteMotor and a guitar string andShe soaked a hanky in 3 RosesAnd rubbed it on the spotAnd drew a rickety heart andA bent arrow and it hurt like hellAnd Funeral Wells spunPoodle Murphy on the targetAs he threw his hardware,Only once in Sheboygan did he missAt a matinee on Diamond Pier andShe'd never let him forget itThey were doing two shows and sheHad a high fever and he tookOff a piece of her ear andTip Little told her she shouldLeave the bumBut Poodle said, "He fetched meLast time I run."But I'd like to hammer this ring into a bulletAnd I wish I had some whiskey and a gunMy dearAnd I wish I had some whiskey and a gun my dear.

9.

Afloat and all at sea / the stars align in threes.They’re so fine and free in blue and in greenLike leaves on endless trees.Come climb the sky with me. Come hear and come to seeMelody in perfect symmetryIn love / in light / in key.We chart from stars, lay too among islandsThe night thick hair around usAnd cold water lapping at the keel Upon deck in damp air, we lie backFeel our clothes turn wet to skin, and look for Orion’s beltWe look for Orion’s beltSky spills over us, so fullWe forget about daysOut here when we touch, the earth turnsWe go sailing through Islands of starsSink with the bears black fur. Drift in a dogs coatBecome comets that flare and orbit the night.We sail highlands of starsWe sink with a bears black furWe drift in a dogs coatBecome comets that flare and orbit the nightCome climb the sky with me. Come hear and come to seeMelody in perfect symmetryIn love / in light / in keyIn love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light In love / in light / in key

10.

This Is How We Do

After scoring his second GRAMMY Award (and 14th nomination) in March 2021, the protean vocalist Kurt Elling hangs an unexpected left turn with SuperBlue for Edition Records. It’s a torrent of roisterous funk, indelible beats and all-too-current lyrics that boasts the talents of producer-guitarist Charlie Hunter and two stars of the hip-hop generation: drummer Corey Fonville and bassist-keyboardist DJ Harrison (both of the genre-hopping band Butcher Brown). Elling has always been a master of grooves, ranging from bebop to pure pop and progressive jazz to neo-soul, but he’s never filled an album with grooves quite like these.

Thanks to newly sprung melody and lyrics from Elling, along with Hunter & co.’s fresh grooves, SuperBlue features all-new songs, innovative takes on compositions from jazz lions Wayne Shorter and Freddie Hubbard, and a raw and stripped-down treatment of “The Seed,” a still-dynamic, decades-old riff on immortality written by Cody Chestnutt. There is even a slamming new version of a Tom Waits tune.

Elling has never made an album like this – and he’s never made any album in the way that SuperBlue took shape. To this day, he has yet to meet the members of Butcher Brown in person: with travel confined by the COVID-19 pandemic, their collaboration happened across a distance of roughly 1,000 miles, with Hunter acting as go-between. In their Virginia studio, Fonville and Harrison met with Hunter to hammer out an assortment of grooves and colors; at his home in Chicago, Elling took the rhythm tracks and determined whether they called for new melodic narratives or were better suited to existing compositions. Once the groundwork was complete, Elling and Hunter got together at a converted horse barn in Urbana, Illinois, where they recorded the vocal and solo guitar tracks and mixed it all down.

For all that, Fonville considers this “one of the most organic sessions” he’s ever done, with a surprising lack of hassle or fuss. “The seeds were planted a while ago,” Elling says, “and then the pandemic got [Charlie and me] both stuck at home. The time inside was the hothouse for something new to grow. Finally, the seeds busted open and grew into this crazy, weird COVID flower.”

The writing process gave Elling the chance to return to several of his now-familiar passions, such as the Beat Generation, current politics and the interpolation of contemplative poetry into already transcendent ballads. But even these touchstones buzz with the fresh energy of contemporary jazz-funk fusion.

Speaking about Fonville and Harrison, Elling is grateful. “For those gifted young cats to give me the trust, and to vibe with me and be so enthusiastic about this project, is a great compliment. It’s enlivening and even rejuvenating in the truest sense of the word. I haven’t been paying as much attention to the groove-oriented stuff that younger cats have been developing, except in a cursory fashion – not because I don’t like it, but because I’ve been focused for so long on learning from cats like Prez and Wayne and Dexter Gordon. I feel like Joe Square-Britches coming into this stuff.”

That’s far from how the Butcher Brown musicians see Elling, widely acclaimed as the pre-eminent male vocalist in jazz. “I’ve loved Kurt’s music since high school,” says the 30-year-old Fonville, who co-produced the album. “I mean, he’s a legend at this point. I obviously knew him more as a straight-ahead vocalist, but I felt like he would feel at home with us – partly because our music is so rooted in the blues and Kurt already has a lot of blues in his music. And I was super happy at the fact that he trusted us enough to really steer things in this direction.”

Elling also placed his trust in the production expertise of Charlie Hunter to bridge the worlds of Elling and Butcher Brown; in fact, with his unassailable cred in both the jazz and groove camps, Hunter is perhaps the only musician who could have done so. “Between the records he’s made with cats like D’Angelo and John Mayer and A Tribe Called Quest, Charlie is a made guy in that world, just as he has the respect of jazz people” says Elling, who first met Hunter when both were signed to Blue Note Records in the late 1990s. They struck up an immediate rapport, leading to Elling’s guest appearance on Hunter’s album Songs From the Analog Playground; more recently, during the pandemic shutdown, they worked on some highly funkified videos for the weekly webcast Elling hosted during 2020.

As Hunter explains, “We both really thought that making those vids was a lot of fun, and when Kurt decided he wanted to make a whole record like that, he asked me to produce it. We shot some ideas back and forth and then I brought up Butcher Brown, because these guys have a great community and a great collective sound.” Hunter initially had no plans to bring his guitars to the sessions, but Elling insisted that he play on the date as well as produce. Hunter gladly gave in. “It was great working with Corey and DJ,” he says now – especially because the project didn’t call for any long guitar solos. “I’m much happier when I’m just grooving and laying in the cut, you know?”

On SuperBlue, those grooves are generous and bountiful and the mix is phat and vibrant, creating springboards for some of the most vivid tracks of Elling’s career. The new rhythmic playground shows off Elling’s still-broadening vocal prowess. The arrangements extend the singer’s already remarkable range and expand his role as a gifted storyteller, adept at both hipster humor and soul-shattering pathos.

For the former, go directly to “Can’t Make It With Your Brain,” a hilarious spear to the heart of conspiracy disinformation, wrapped in a dance-club scenario. For the latter, there’s his reprise of the Carla Bley composition “Endless Lawns,” which previously appeared on his album The Questions, and which carries a breathtaking Elling lyric, highlighted by a Judith Minty poem that clarifies the song’s ethereal beauty.

Elling’s serpentine lyrics combine with the psychedelic production to make Super Blue, Freddie Hubbard’s late-70s fusion gem, the latest addition to his portrait gallery of jazz classics. On ”Sassy,” the band freshens the dance rhythms that the Manhattan Transfer used in their 1991 tribute to Sarah Vaughan. Then Elling switches gears on “Where to Find It,” transforming Wayne Shorter’s rapturous “Aung San Suu Kyi” into a Buddhist meditation, with the assistance of Charles Twichell’s haunting poem “Animal Languages.”

Among the originals, Elling honors the centennial of Jack Kerouac – with asides to David Amram and Mose Allison – on Dharma Bums, an affectionate view of On the Road that crashes headlong into Circus, a prose poem from the Beats’ direct descendant Tom Waits. Waits recorded this offbeat narrative against a spooky big-top dirge; Elling intones it against a slam-dance funk groove that recasts the piece from a 50s pulp-noir paperback cover to a neon panel by Ed Paschke. And “Manic Panic Epiphanic” lifts the spirit with a message of hope – falsetto harmonies from the Bee Gees book – at a time when the world needs it most.

The universal accolades for Elling don’t always mention his relentless, career-long, search for new vistas. He’s recorded an album of global love songs (Passion World) and transformed the Christmas tradition (The Beautiful Day); he’s written lyrics to jazz classics, staked out 1960s-70s rock-n-roll (on 1619 Broadway), and entered into a galvanic partnership, on disc and on tour, with Branford Marsalis’s quartet. He earned his first GRAMMY for updating the historic collaboration between John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman (Dedicated to You), and his most recent statuette for Secrets Make the Best Stories, his Latin-inspired project with modern piano giant Danilo Perez.

With SuperBlue, Elling continues on this path of bold collaboration – within the confines of worldwide lockdown – to map out a strikingly new direction, on a project guaranteed to gain new listeners and stretch the ears of his devoted admirers.