Review: All of Me – Jazz Rewritten by Jessie Gordon at The Ellington Jazz Club

Jessie Gordon at The Ellington Jazz Club
Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Cantatrice extraordinaire Jessie Gordon is back for another round of Fringe World shows. Her season began last night with All Of Me—Jazz Rewritten at The Ellington Jazz Club.

The premise of this show is that the lyrics of too many American songbook standards are no longer relevant in the twenty-first century. Either the references are outdated, the images tame, or the sensibilities have been superseded. This is a problem for many contemporary singers, as even though the melodies and music are still affecting, the words are cringe-worthy, and it’s hard to sing them with authenticity. The solution is simple: rewrite the lyrics in a contemporary idiom. Being a woman of great lyrical talent and no shortage of wit, Gordon took it on herself to do just this.

To be fair to the great songwriters, not all of the lyrics in the set were outdated. In some cases, Gordon took the opportunity to merely supplant the original with a parody. For Cole Porter’s Under My Skin, she kept the original words but, with the band’s assistance, came up with an inverted version that explored the lyric’s inherent creepiness. Not under the skin with love and connectedness, more like psoriasis.

As always, Gordon pulled together a band of Perth’s finest jazz players: Harry Mitchell (piano and de facto musical director), Karl Florrisson (double bass), and Mike Perkins (kit). As she claimed on mounting the stage, it is always a privilege for her to perform with such outstanding musicians. A two-way street, it must be a privilege for them too to back such an accomplished singer.

Looking sassy in a dangerous, sparkling black, split-to-the-hip frock with a plunging backline, Gordon charmed her way through the set, her band hot on her heels.

All the greats were subjected to her revisionism. George and Ira Gershwin got the treatment through A Foggy Day (renamed A Narcoleptic’s Regret), Rogers and Hart with My Funny Valentine (rewritten to be more unambiguously romantic), Nat King Cole on Unforgettable (parodied as Forgettable), Frank Sinatra’s hit Come Fly with Me (Come Cry With Me), and Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Burke’s Polka Dots and Moonbeams (Fireworks and Champagne).

Many of these rewrites were purely witty and comic, the opportunity for some dexterous wordplay. The little-known Doris Day tune, I‘d Rather Be With You, which originally cites a string of now less-known movie stars, was cleverly updated to reference the famous philosophers and physicists of antiquity as well as Gordon’s own jazz heroes. A Foggy Day lamented the tragic consequences of falling asleep while smoking in bed. Come Fly With Me was turned into an ode to unqualified internet influencers. Other songs, Funny Valentine and Gordon’s own Heart on a String looked at the tender side of love. Some of the songs, though, were reimagined to expose the frustrations and conflicts of a disintegrating relationship. In these, a slightly darker, more frosty, and emotional Jessie Gordon emerged.

It could be argued that, through her reimaginings, Gordon is actually abusing the great songwriters, disrespecting their hard work. But the sheer cleverness of what she does in this show and the need for all art to constantly reinvent itself excuse her from this charge. 

The repertoire was completed by two superb Gordon originals. That Isn’t Me and Heart on a String. Melodically and lyrically, these fine tunes held their own within the selection.

The musical highlights included the stealthy introduction to My Funny Valentine—Perkins’ finger tapped snare, cymbals, and tom, Mitchell’s spare chords, and Florrisson’s creeping bass, which returned later in his solo; the swinging melody of Gordon’s That Isn’t Me, an ironic split-up song; Perkins’ use of rutes (a bundle of thin cane rods banded together) on Heart On A String, and Mitchell’s sensational arrangement of Under My Skin, which was truly creepy and had Gordon pitch her melody off the beat.

There was the obligatory round robin of solos—piano to bass to drums—on the opening and closing numbers, which emphasised the improvisational virtuosity of the musicians.

The show ended with the titular song, Gerald Marks and Seymour Simons’ 1931 classic All of Me. As with Unforgettable, this lyric is neither particularly cringeworthy nor dated; its gentle irony probably still holds true for many people. But Jessie was having none of it: irony out, anger in. Although she sang the one original verse at the start, she ended with a woman’s caustic attack on a former lover. The recommendations of various therapies and self-help services were delivered with the withering vitriol and fury of a highly articulate woman wronged, scorned, or in the throes of divorce. You wouldn’t want to be on the end of it.

Gordon has always owned the material she sings, but in this show it was a different, more authentic kind of ownership. In the past she has always been bubbly—not in a twee way, as she’s forever cheeky, witty, and quick to entendre, but essentially light-hearted. In contrast, this show had a caustic edge. More mature maybe, or seasoned, there was a touch of the tragic, often the hallmark of a truly great performer (Piaf and Holiday come to mind). It is always more engaging and real when a richly rounded person looks frankly at the darker emotions and uses great material to fathom their own heart. In this regard, Gordon’s performance last night went deep—of the twenty or so Jessie Gordon shows this reviewer has seen, All Of Me is clearly one of the best. 

The show runs at The Ellington every night until Sunday. Jessie Gordon’s four other Fringe shows double up and follow on through until the end of the festival. 

IAN LILBURNE

Photos by Alan Holbrook