If you ever thought Miles Davis' 'Kind of Blue' was a bit too mainstream, then Xiu Xiu's 'Nina' might be the twisted jazz odyssey for you. Released in 2013, this album is more than just an audacious tribute to Nina Simone. Jamie Stewart, the creative driver of Xiu Xiu, drags listeners into a wild soundscape that challenges everything we ever thought we knew about jazz standards. Set in a recording studio in Williamsburg, Brooklyn—hip enough to catch the eye of every trendy progressive—it focuses on deconstructing Simone's classics in ways that even she might not recognize, teetering on the edge of absurdity.
'Nina' might just redefine what you understand as homage. This isn't a collection of soft tributes; it's a bold statement that strips, twists, and then reconstructs Nina Simone's legacy in a way that's both fascinating and disorienting. It insists on the listener’s undivided attention as Stewart carves out what can only be described as a post-punk jazz fusion journey.
The brass and strings that accompany Stewart oscillate between abrasive and melancholic, making it a challenging auditory experience for any casual listener who merely seeks comfort. But that’s precisely the point. Stewart has no intention of offering an easy ride; rather, he turns the tribute on its head, creating a space where every instrument feels like it’s fighting for its own version of the limelight.
So why 'Nina'? Xiu Xiu wasn’t just paying respects; they were digging into Simone’s activist life. Simone, whose songs often tackled racial and social issues, fought for justice—and sometimes radical change. Stewart subverts this narrative by unearthing Simone's struggle with an unsettling intensity that borders on the anarchic. It's radical in a way that shuns the audience's comfort, reflecting the very rebellion that Simone's music once sought to channel.
This collection of tracks won't provide the vocal range or melodic comfort one might usually associate with Simone. Instead, it takes songs like 'Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood' and 'See-Line Woman' through a gritty and metallic audio kaleidoscope. Stewart's voice is far from Simone's divine essence—raw, throaty, and unyielding, echoing elements of industrial noise rather than sweet serenades.
This is an album that emerges from the underground, suited for those who wish to be challenged by their musical choices. It forces us to consider how modern interpretation can both celebrate and deconstruct the soul of an original. The performances are raw and invite cynicism, executing everything with a sense of unpredictable politicism that might cause the more liberal music critics to squirm in their seats with the helpless sense that not everything in art needs to cater to their palates.
Beyond the sound itself, 'Nina' is recorded with imperfections, smudges, and a visceral energy that parallels a studio jam session more than a calculated album production. Stewart’s own unique vocal style becomes an instrument in its own right, blending with cacophonous rhythms to present a provocative comment on the essence of influence and what 'being influenced' truly entails.
The importance of Xiu Xiu’s 'Nina' is perhaps best captured in how it compels a conversation on the limits of art in reflecting life, social justice, and political unrest—all while packaged in an anti-popular culture ethos that would make any politically conservative art aficionado puzzle over its audacity and intent.
'Nina' doesn’t just pay homage; it challenges listeners to confront the limitations we place on artistic interpretation and historical reverence. It's an ambitious, perhaps daunting, take on legacy—one that applies pressure in all the places comfort hides. While the appeal may not be widespread, its singularity lies in its provocatively disruptive force.