Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *

Whisper it quietly, for the music and voice will do the rest, Ms. Caro Emerald is a force to reckoned with and someone who on the strength of her debut album and this new offering, The Shocking Miss Emerald might just bring a new set, numbering in the multitude, back to the fun and honest immorality of  Swing/Jazz.

Caroline van der Leeuw, Miss Emerald, wags her finger, flutters her eyelash and begs the listener to sit down and take part in a journey that she is conducting. The orchestra, arranged by Jules Buckley and David Schreurs, adds the danger, the reveal in this act and the writing which includes the likes of Guy Chambers and Wieger Hoogendorp maintains the glamour behind the scenes at all times. Front and centre all eyes are on Miss Emerald though. Like a violin concerto, everybody sees the whole orchestra but the focus is upon the one person slaving away on their own. Miss Emerald doesn’t slave though; she enslaves and flatters all with her voice, the interpreter of the tale, the mistress of the demure and delightful.

Whether the superb intro, the enchanting Coming Back as a Man, the beguiling Completely or the outrageous Pack Up The Louie, there is no line, no parallel greater to the days of Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holiday. This time round there is no fight for women’s suffrage at the forefront, just the realisation that for a long time the genre, whilst overlooked by specialist fans, has been widely ignored by the general music lover.

Let’s not bandy around words, sounds and images like a loud and meaningless discordant trumpet, The Shocking Miss Emerald could be looked upon as one of the finest albums ever recorded by a woman in the last 70 years. It depends ultimately on the view point of those willing to take a step away from their chosen daily music escape and for most Jazz/Tango is not that high on their agenda but Caro Emerald’s voice, the suggestion of sexual allure, the fantasy of smoke filled rooms and the distraction of the speak easy bars that dominated against the futility of prohibition is framed in a way that doesn’t shout its action, it gives a playful wink, the crook of the finger and the imagined smile, all that is needed to give yourself completely over to this enjoyable and talented femme fatale.

Ian D. Hall