Jill Jones
Jill Jones

THE REVIEW

A moment I still remember with absolute clarity, even though how many years have passed now? Nine? Maybe even ten. Anyway, I remember a teenager who had just discovered Queen and was in constant search of music. Hm yes, but where to find it since at home the inspiration was absolutely zero? But of course, there's that channel called MTV, the television of music, where surely there would be so much music to satisfy all his appetites! Ah, poor fool, it's no wonder that after these first "attempts" he ended up straight into the arms of Rhapsody and Cradle Of Filth, but that’s not the point. The fact is I was watching a hit parade on the aforementioned music kennel presented by some Carolina something and, amidst a Madonna here, a Liga there, and gossip about George Michael in the middle, comes the nostalgic moment: the video for "Mia Bocca" (pff, it will be the usual nonsense...) by some Jill Jones (who!?) written by a certain Prince (ahh, right, the one from Purple Rain!) is presented. And I almost seem to see myself again, perched on the kitchen table, with eyes like *_* and a silly grin. That sound so eccentric and mischievous, that light and sparkling voice, and then what a wonderful video, never heard or seen anything like it before.

And today, finally in the prime (one hopes) of my mental and cognitive faculties, I can give Jill Jones the honors she deserves. I confess to having a fairly limited knowledge of her mentor, but, sifting through the credits, one thing stands out: the songs are credited to Prince E Jill, three of them are credited solely to the singer, who also appears as co-producer of the album. That's why my scant knowledge about the eccentric artist from Minneapolis isn't too much of a problem: Jill Jones is not simply a handmaiden on which to base a low-profile project to recycle some outtakes, but a well-prepared musician who had a significant specific weight in the making of the record. Let's start from "Mia Bocca" which, years later and with much clearer ideas, I still consider a great Pop masterpiece, especially in the "full" album version, seven and a half minutes of perfect blend between funk and synth-pop, with the luxury of a magnificent symphonic intro. I wouldn’t know how to describe this piece other than as a shining example of perfection, for its melody, hypnotic and I would say almost minimal, and especially for Jill’s stunning interpretation, so full of brightness and sensuality, a playful sensuality, fresh, knowing yet smiling, sunny. Jill Jones is a sublime singer, there's little to say; she has extraordinary versatility, her usually sinuous and subtle tone knows how to scratch and impress when necessary, sometimes seductive lolita, then icy and mysterious woman, R'n'B diva in gala attire, fiery queen of funk, sweet and romantic when needed, with grace and elegance. What class, ladies and gentlemen, what class, no old or new Mariah Carey that can hold, no current diva or starlet that can even remotely stand up to her: no sterile display of technique and range, no pointless high note, a charisma of a true queen.

Yes, because "Jill Jones" doesn’t stop only at "Mia Bocca", it is truly a great album as a whole, just eight songs and not a single note out of place, not an anonymous episode (which should serve as a lesson to those who stuff albums with handfuls of superfluous stuff almost in the grip of a harmful instinct of horror vacui). "Baby You're A Trip" is a sparkling rain of stars and glitter, has the elegance, the soft step and the glamorous charm to serve as a backdrop for a high fashion show, in contrast we have the very lively funky duo "All Day, All Night"-"For Love", the first one hot but almost alienating, with a Jill reciting with great charisma a delirium of passion, without giving a moment’s respite; the second one is a little less frenzied, a song which, if released ten years earlier, in full disco-fever, it would certainly have been a smash hit; the singing holds to a low and full-bodied register, visibly distinct from the one used in most of the album, once again demonstrating the extreme vocal versatility of JJ. There is also a grand style ballad, "With You", languidly laid on sinuous guitar phrases and a very lively camp episode like "My Man", with such a "sassy" and playful tone to melt even the toughest and most uncompromising rocker.

The classic and intriguing sensuality of "G-Spot", an impeccable synth & sax performance and the bittersweet elegance in evening dress of the midtempo "Violet Blue", with a distinctly 70’s taste, complete the panorama of an absolutely perfect album, moreover of a genre I don’t usually frequent and that often is not very congenial to me, but in this case there’s really a total harmony, listening to Jill Jones still puts the *_* stars in my eyes, just like ten years ago. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out, it could have been the birth of a star but something went wrong, who knows how and why. I don’t know, but I’m sure of one thing: had I been the owner of a major record label, after this album I would have immediately contacted Jill Jones proposing her a lavish contract and carte blanche, with unlimited budget and maximum artistic freedom, because in my opinion she had all the qualities to pursue an independent path, even without the perhaps somewhat "overwhelming" figure of Prince in the background. Would it have been a flop of epic proportions? Knowing myself probably yes, but it would have been worth trying.