During one of America's periodic cocktail revivals, I peddled Connie Francis discs in the music section of a chain bookstore. For a while, the storewide promotion of non-raucous jazz, skinny cappuccinos, and other telltale tropes of now-sound bourgeois hep was funny and even engaging. But soon enough, the fixation on sparkly confetti, martini culture, and Miss Ann-Margret's "13 Men" inside a beige superstore grew awfully humiliating. I've avoided easy listening ever since.
Imagine my surprise, then, upon discovering Azita's 2003 Drag City release Enantiodromia, on which Chicago no-wave icon Azita Youssefi traded the jagged energy of her early work with Scissor Girls and Bride of No No for boogie piano and jazzy lounge-- albeit mostly for Steely Dan fans and the punk-at-heart. A year later, she's returned with an even smoother mix.
Despite its jarring approximation of the bubbly stuff, Life on the Fly is by no means an unchallenging album. Making use of the same adept back-up band as on Enantiodromia, the core trio consists of herself playing piano and singing, boyfriend John McEntire executing nimble rat-a-tat (as well as pristine mint-julep engineering) and Isotope 217 bassist Matt Lux contributing a sparse and tasteful low-end. The guest musicians share a similar Chicagoan pedigree: improvisational jazzman Aram Shelton blows alto sax and clarinet, while Tortoise's Jeff Parker and Rob Mazurek contribute sometimes over-the-top guitar and cornet intrusions.
Like smokey torch singers of old, or Come vocalist Thalia Zedek with a subtle hint of Neko Case twang, Youssefi infuses vocal lines with unexpected over-enunciations and dramatic flourishes. Likewise, her dense songwriting offers flippant chord progressions and weird dynamics. For example, the buoyant opener, "Wasn't in the Bargain", takes Robert Johnson's crossroads to a barbecue where ol' Lucifer returns to collect his debt from a hapless bargainer: "When the devil comes to take his pay/ You look into his eyes and know your sorrow/ Cursing that you never thought you'd see this day/ You didn't have to borrow." Musically, it's Bruce Hornsby jamming to the Sea & Cake and Vince Guaraldi, but despite a couple cheesy turns-- including Jeff Parker's disconnected guitar solo and Youssefi's over-emphatic repetition of "Well, I think that I will go"-- it's one of the album's better tracks.
It'll take some picking and choosing, but if you give these tickled ivories a chance to seep into your pores, there are breezily erudite pop moments. In the meantime, shuffle past the busy approximation of a Dirty Dozen Brass cornet duel on "Just Joker Blues", "Miss Tony"'s remarkable resemblance to a Muzak-y Stones' "Let's Spend the Night Together", and a few too many vocal grinds bringing on a blush like Billy Joel crashing his car while fatuously replaying some lost collaboration of "Movin' Out" with Twyla Tharp.
Whatever the mishaps, Youssefi's making a transition into a new and complex phase of her already admirable career, and Life on the Fly's eccentric dose of ambition and indulgence in a sea of half-assed garage rock, out-folk and IDM turns an otherwise middling project into a post-no-wave musical worthy of repeat engagements.
