It's not often we get to review a CD by a singer with influences ranging from David Bowie to Klaus Nomi, Serge Gainsbourg and Radiohead whose own set features reconstructions of songs by composers as supposedly untouchable as Jacques Brel, Frederic Hollander, Stephen Sondheim and Cole Porter, but then CAROLINE NIN is no run of the mill pop babe either.
Indeed, Caroline is touted as one of the emrgent stars of the contemporary 'Chanson' scene. Well, I wouldn't know about that because - as a rule - it's not a circle I ever move in, but whatever her modern cultural significance, Nin is quite a remarkable performer, dextrously putting a (sometimes) trilingual spin on songs which are often drawn from tried and tested cabaret backgrounds.
Actually, what with the supper club atmosphere that prevails at this live recording at a reverent Adelaide Cabaret Festival in Australia at the end of 2002, it would be easy to dismiss this smoky chanteuse as a contemporary abhorrence, but that would be to ignore some vocal tours de forces and some quite stunning re-interpretations of songs most performers would leave well alone.
Initially, you're not so sure. The Parisian born Nin opens with several selections with heroically professional but rather obvious jazzy accompaniment from pianist Sean Hargreaves and stand-up bassist Jerome Davies and - regardless of her attractively coquettish delivery and linguistic skills (chopping and changing English, French and German sometimes within sentences) - it all sounds old-fashioned and a little toothless.
However, when Hargreaves switches from piano to Fender Rhodes and they kick into a scarily smoochy version of "Money" (from "Cabaret) things start to happen and by the time they turn the ending into full-blown burlesque, your interest is piqued.
More good stuff follows. Nin gives the wistful, kept woman blues of the Marc Almond-penned "The One & Only You" a real experience-drenched Scott Walker interpretation and ensures that lines like: "sometimes you bring some wine, sometimes you bring a flower, it's very special though you only stay an hour" are dripping with loneliness. By comparison, their version of Brecht/ Weill's "Pirate Jenny" is also something to behold. In this capable trio's hands, the story of the skivvy by day and she-devil by night is mean, moody and absolutely magnificent.
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In fairness, your reviewer did find his interest waning temporarily for a while as the album continues, although latterly a lovely afterhours take of Liza Minnelli's "I'm Losing My Mind" rekindles the flame and - while it can't really match the drama invested by the version on "Scott 1" - her French language run through of Brel's "Amsterdam" is still admirable. Besides, another plus point is that the album culminates nicely with a further stand-out: a breathy studio version of Cole Porter's "Love For Sale" with only the starkest of keyboard accompaniment to help us drift out into the pale and drawn early hours.
Caroline Nin's overt sophistication will probably ensure "Scarlet Stories" remains an item of relatively minor interest in the main, though I can certainly imagine it doing extremely well in France and the Benelux countries. However, if you get the opportunity, give it a chance, as her skills are beguiling and - let's face it - if it can intrigue a reviewer who'd normally run screaming for the nearest exit when confronted by anything whiffing even remotely of cocktail jazz, then it's certainly capable of making further converts.
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