Recording of the Week, Jeff Goldblum - I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This

Old cynic that I am, I do normally recoil at the notion of film stars recording albums (or even worse… soap stars); it's as if the millions they are paid to be in blockbusters simply isn’t enough, and their thirst for further adulation/validation as 'serious artists' sends them looking for it in other areas. The general PR machine stench that arises from such projects is usually enough to put me off without needing to actually hear the results lest I should be proved wrong. However, when approaching Jeff Goldblum’s second album there are several obstacles getting in the way of my ignorance-is-bliss bias. Firstly, I’ve always liked Jeff Goldblum and can’t think of a bad film that he’s appeared in (or at least improved), from The Fly to The Tall Guy, or his early appearances in Robert Altman movies like Nashville. More importantly, Goldblum is a bona fide musician, a pianist with real feeling for jazz, and was so before he became an actor. He is accompanied here by his long-time lounge combo, the fabulously named Mildred Snitzer Orchestra, and Goldblum’s ebullient personality is everywhere apparent on I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This. I recently caught a snippet of him and the band playing on a UK TV chat show, and there was nothing forced or insincere in his beaming smile as he romped through Jimmy Smith’s The Cat, which makes a slinky appearance here (he's equally adept on the Hammond, the sound of which suits his louche image).

I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This contrasts well with his debut from last year, which was more in the spirit of an impromptu cabaret set and recorded in front of a live audience at Capitol Studios. The sequencing on this new record is a winning mix of punchy instrumentals alongside varied vocal spots, largely focused on female singers from the current pop music sphere. Sharon Van Etten opens the album with a sultry take on Let’s Face the Music and Dance, demonstrating genuine feeling for jazz without slipping over into pastiche. Likewise, Miley Cyrus (or TV character Hannah Montana for those with kids of a certain age) contributes The Thrill is Gone with a quirky country-twang in her voice. I loved the band’s piledriving take on The Beat Goes On, surely proving itself one of the most durable (and danceable) standards, with a faux-naive Inara George taking the vocal spot. Gregory Porter joins in the fun for Make Someone Happy, and Goldblum’s charming take on Little Man You’ve Had a Busy Day is a perfect end to a delightful album, and brought even this curmudgeon out in goose-bumps.