Kismet
It’s 3 a.m., a candle is
flickering on the table in the corner and last call has come and gone. Suddenly
a woman’s voice, this rich, deep, sad- but-defiant voice comes out of nowhere:
“Take your love / I’m not for loving / Take your needs / I’m not for needing /
Take your tears / I’m not for crying / I belong to the wind.” Rich as the
darkest Godiva chocolate, the voice gets into your
bones until you can barely sleep at night and can’t get through the day without
it. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you
And time is clearly on Kurtz’s
mind—from the first song, in which she calls it a bastard, to the title cut,
which closes the CD. The rest of the disc, both covers and original material,
keeps the theme going, although not to the point that Beautiful Yesterday
risks turning into a dreaded concept album. Still, if late October—when what
leaves are left on the trees have faded and winter is no longer a far-off
notion—begged a soundtrack, this would be it. Kurtz sounds at times like her
musical DNA contains traces of Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits, not to mention the
world’s great cabaret singers. Once in a while, her reach exceeds her grasp.
But isn’t that an artist’s job?